It's the Only Life You've Got Arc 2
by raiderl
Summary: Full title: "It's the Only Life You've Got…before you know it, it could be gone."  Continuation of story begun in Arc 1, reading that first is recommended.  Definitely earns the M rating as Miranda and Andy explore their maturing relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**It's the Only Life You've Got… **

**Arc II …before you know it, it could be gone**

**Author: **raiderL  
><strong>Fandom: <strong>The Devil Wears Prada (movie)**  
>Pairing: <strong>Miranda/Andrea  
><strong>Rating: <strong>M (or 18 or NC-17, take your pick) – certain sections are NSFW – If you are under 18 years of age hit the back button now; by reading you agree that you are of age and allowed to read mature subject matter.  
><strong>AN #1: This is a sequel to "It's the Only Life You've Got… Arc I…so you just better live it" **Currently there are eleven chapters written and I'm not sure how many more will follow for this arc; the first few chapters will be posted quickly over the span of about a week but the latter chapters may take a little longer as they are still needing to be beta'd.  
>AN#2: There be things here: toys, mild bondage, sensation play, oh and some more spanking that may not be everyone's cuppa; but it's all consensual, it's all in fun and they really do love each other – plus it's not _**the**_ main focus of the story. Perhaps you may classify it as warm and fuzzy kink? Also, this could be called a Hurt/Comfort story with some angst, but at its core it's really just a love story.  
>AN#3: I research a goodly amount of the items, locations, even procedural kind of things that I may reference or use in my writing. However, that doesn't mean that I won't take license with it if I feel it suits the greater good (aka, The Plot). So, if you read it and happen to be an expert in that field or have a knowledge of it and find yourself saying, _"That's not how it really is."_ Well, in this particular universe, it just might be. That doesn't mean I'm going to abuse your trust and completely break the laws of physics or that I would not welcome your comments on anything particularly glaring; I've come to realize that I am really a true student of life and any opportunity to learn and grow is always welcome!  
>AN#4: I apologize in advance to all of the readers whose language of birth is French; English is my first and, in spite of three years of French in high school (and a rather unfortunate propensity for dyslexia), only, language of proficiency. So, I've relied on my rudimentary knowledge of sentence structure and a web-based translator. Please forgive me (Veuillez me pardoner?).

**Prologue**

Andy stared distractedly into space until a tinny voice interrupted her thoughts; she moved the glass panel of her iPhone towards her ear at the same time as her eyes skittered across the computer monitor, scanning the product of her labor.

"Hey Doug; you got a minute? Cool. Huh? You can tell by my voice? Sorry, it's not you. Okay, well yeah, I'm a bit tired but mainly it's because I've been sitting here for over an hour trying to make yet another mind-numbingly boring topic sound interesting. It's due in an hour and… yeah, I might as well be in kindergarten."

"Listen, I just emailed you a clarifying question regarding that certain matter I've been working on… Yeah. If you could look it over and get back to me I'd really appreciate it… Okay… yeah, soon; I'd really like that, Cuban-Chinese food would be great!… Okay, I'll check my email later, thanks! Bye!"

Andy Sachs, junior reporter for the New York Daily Mirror, was working on a plan to remove from her career path the endless parade of filler-only assignments that dulled her brain and her enthusiasm for her chosen profession.

A lead on a story was brought to her by her best bud Doug, who, as an accountant in a large Manhattan firm, had recently become privy to an embezzlement scheme of the community coffers by a borough council member. The prosecutor's office was currently conducting a very low-profile investigation and they were getting ready to go to the grand jury; Andy had been doing her own discrete research over the past week and had everything she needed to write the story, in fact it was nearly complete and she planned on bringing it to Greg in the next day or two. The trick was going to be the timing, she didn't want to interfere with the investigation but she knew that for it to garner the most impact it would need to run just before or directly after the announcement. But that wasn't her call. She bit her lower lip and hoped that her boss would finally see that she was ready for the next level.

_**She **_knew she was ready and was prepared to go elsewhere if she didn't begin to see some progress. Andy understood that she was still relatively new in the industry but she had plenty of experience now and was no longer content to wait. Conversations with her new lover had also helped to give her a perspective that she had been missing prior to…had it only been a month?

The young woman twirled her office chair lightly and shook her head. _Unbelievable! How is that possible?_ It seemed much longer than the mere four weeks it had actually been since she had run into Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of Runway magazine and CEO of Elias Clarke Publications, at Nigel's holiday party. From there they had embarked upon what Andy knew to be a life-changing event; Miranda was the love of her life and now that she realized it she was going to do everything in her power to help the other woman believe it too.

l l l l l l l

Later that same day but much deeper into the evening the object of Andy's earlier musings sat in her study deep within her own contemplation of recent events.

_It's been exactly one month since I happened upon Andrea at Nigel's annual party. Thirty days to roll my entire world end over end. If someone were to tell me two months ago that I would be involved with a woman twenty-two years my junior I would have, at the very least, ordered their professional execution at dawn. _

_Now. Well. Now I have placed myself in a very precarious position; one that leaves me vulnerable in many ways. At least my girls, specifically Caroline, are no longer opposed to the situation; I believe they are perhaps becoming happy that this woman is now in my life which is more than I could dare hope._

_Hope. I once told someone, Andrea I believe, that I lived on it. What one hopes for changes over time; for myself I've found that what is hoped for has simplified. If only my life could be so; it has been so incredibly frustrating to be unable to spend as much time with this incredible creature as I would like. When I am with her it is as if my focus narrows to that space that contains only us; it is as if nothing else in the world matters. When we're apart I find it very difficult at times to school my attention back to whatever task is before me when I've found myself remembering the softness of a breast beneath my lips or her unique taste. I've never been this distracted by or focused upon a lover. It is exhilarating, frightening and professionally inconvenient. _

_I so love contradictions and here I am, finding that I am not immune to them. My sister will have a very good laugh at me whenever I next speak with her._

Miranda sat back and sighed. Never mind her sister, the world will be laughing; a middle-aged woman taking up with her former assistant, could she be any more cliché? Oh, and she could just imagine the Post headlines: "Dragon Lady Preys on Young" or "The Wicked Witch Snags Dorothy?" She rubbed her tired eyes and shook her head, she was handing every last blood-sucking media whore, a gift. The silver haired woman grinned ruefully because when it came down to it, it didn't matter, whatever happened, happened. If the choice was Andrea or her reputation, she was beginning to understand that she'd probably choose the younger woman every time.

**Chapter One**

"Hi Andy, come on in!" Cassidy grabbed her coat sleeve and tugged, letting go when the young woman crossed the threshold and stamped the rapidly melting snow off her feet. The latter half of December's trend towards cold and snowy had only intensified as January settled in.

"Is your mom home yet Cass?" Andy pulled off her wool gloves and dragged the hat from her head.

Cassidy stared at the static mess of dark brown hair and snickered. "Nice look there, mom's gonna love it."

Andy rolled her eyes at the impertinent child and swung the damp wool against a scrawny arm. "Nice one munchkin.'"

"Hey!"

"Yeah, you started it; good thing there's a mirror handy." They both chuckled good-naturedly.

"You're just lucky she's not here yet, you've got some time." The girl grinned evilly. "You're so going to need it!" She squealed and ran as Andy made a quick snowball with the snow melting off her boot and mimicked a lobbing throw.

Some moments later, Cassidy having fled to the upper floors, and after having tamed the wild beast, Andy made her way to the kitchen where Cara was busy at the stove. "Hi." She waved a half wave. "I know we've crossed paths a hundred times but we've never been properly introduced, I'm Andy." Cara looked over her shoulder at the young woman who had made such an impact in the overall mood of her household, and smiled.

"Hello Andy, it's good to finally meet you." The thin, older woman with short, dark gray hair put a large stirring spoon to rest on the stove and wiped her hands on her apron, turning to meet Andy's outstretched hand. Cara had been tending to her mother, recovering from pneumonia, and had not been at the townhouse on the occasions that Andy had been over.

The two women chatted for several minutes and a glass of wine was offered and accepted when the front door was heard to be opened, heralding the clacking of a very unique pattern on the entrance hall floor. The smile that stretched across Andrea's face gave the housekeeper a sudden pause; she could see what drew her employer to the girl and she was glad for her. Of all of the assistants she had seen come and go through the doors this one had stood out for her warmth and genuine spirit.

Andy excused herself and met her lover half way through the study. The question in her eyes about how demonstrative they were going to be in front of Cara was quickly answered as she was swept up in arms that circled her waist and a kiss that nearly bruised in its intensity.

_Holy crap but I love this woman!_ Andy thanked the universe again that she was lucky enough to be the focus of such adoring affection and caressed the soft lips below hers. When they pulled back her eyes met the steely blue filled with warmth and not a little heat. "Hello beautiful." Andy murmured and she glimpsed the sudden surprise that slightly widened those eyes before returning to a more placid state. She was reminded once again that the editor was not used to thinking of herself as beautiful and sorrowed at the thought.

Miranda continued the light embrace and regarded Andrea closely, her cynical heart seeking out any sign of insincerity and finding, to her continual surprise, none. The girl truly believed in her perceptions. _Amazing._ And then she found that her mouth was moving without censure, "I've missed you." Expressing her need and vulnerability despite a lifetime of near ascetic practice.

It had been a week since the women last saw one another, Tuesday night dinners with her girls the only reprieve as the demands of the editor's schedule required she spend nearly every waking moment involved in some sort of work related duty. Miranda felt depleted, craving of the other woman's touch. They had not had the opportunity to be physically intimate since New Year's day two weeks prior and she was beginning to feel slightly mad due to the lack.

They had yet to relinquish their hold on one another and the light stroking of Andrea's hands on her back and sides was teasing dangerous thoughts to the surface. She wanted to drag the girl up to her bedroom, lock the door and not surface for a week, month; no, forever. She inhaled sharply as the sound of running twelve year olds clomped down the steps and suddenly reached in and stole a sharp kiss. "Soon." She whispered. Those warm, brown eyes melted into a bright smile and she grabbed the now quiescent hands and squeezed.

Andy had watched the subtle play of emotions flit across the other woman's face, reading the exhaustion, frustration, desire and near desperation knowing that surely Miranda had seen the same mirrored back. The only reason she had not stayed the week prior was because she had an early morning interview in Harlem and there was no way she'd be able to make it back to her apartment, get ready and be on time and it was still too new to just disappear on the girls before their bedtime behind a closed bedroom door. The prior weekend Miranda had been required in Los Angeles; it was crazy the schedule the woman kept and frustrating. The only thing that soothed was knowing that the editor hated it just as much, if not more.

"Hi Andy!" Caroline gave the reporter a slight wave as she passed by on her way to the kitchen, her sister hot on her heels, and the two women, hand in hand, moved to follow.

Dinner was comfortable as conversation between the four drifted over many topics. The twins, especially Caroline, after her initial anger and disbelief, were settling into the idea that the reporter was going to be around, much to Miranda's relief.

"I'll be here on Friday at six o'clock to pick you up Caroline." Andy was fulfilling her Christmas gift of a concert or theatrical production of the girls' choice. Miley Cyrus, which had caused a considerable internal groan when Caroline had made the initial declaration, was on her agenda now and she was only hoping it wouldn't be as excruciating as she was imagining.

"I can't wait!" If Caroline had a tail it would surely be wagging in wide, happy arcs at that moment. "This is going to be so cool! All my friends are jealous since it was sold out. How'd you get the tickets?"

Andy grinned with a sparkle in her eye. "I have my ways; you don't have to think about that, just enjoy yourself." It was very fortuitous that one of her colleagues, Ronnie, had a pair of tickets, three rows back from the stage, for his niece who had been due to visit but had had to cancel at the last minute. He was so relieved to not actually have to attend that he let them go at a very discounted price. Andy noted Miranda's consideration of her and widened her smile.

Miranda swallowed a sip of her wine and looked down at her plate, seemingly in contemplation. Andy continued to converse with the twins but noted as the meal wound down that their mother had withdrawn considerably.

"Girls, have you finished your homework yet?"

Both Cassidy and Caroline looked down at their plates. Cassidy ventured, "We were hoping to watch a movie with you and Andy?"

"That didn't answer my question and I have to work on the book."

There was a tightness around Miranda's eyes and mouth now. Andy pondered it along with her words; trying not to be too disappointed, she had hoped that "soon" meant that night. She internally sighed and hoped Miranda wouldn't mind if she worked alongside her.

Both girls, looking rather glum, shrugged and said in unison. "Alright mom." They got up from the table and took their plates to the sink. Cassidy asked, "Will you come say goodbye before you leave Andy?"

Andy smiled and nodded. "Of course. But I think it'll be awhile, I have some work to do also, so I think I'll set up shop next to your mom." Her eyes cut across the table, trying to discern Miranda's thoughts, the expression now completely unreadable.

Once the girls finally headed up the back stairs they set about clearing the remainders of the meal bathed in a tense silence. Andy cleared her throat, "So," she inhaled and said mildly, "the book?"

A terse, "Come with me." Was the only response as Miranda turned abruptly and led the way up to her second floor den, barely waiting for her to clear the entrance before shutting and locking the door.

"Miranda? Ungh!" Andy suddenly found herself pushed up against the wall next to the door and enveloped in a crushing kiss.

"Don't talk." Miranda husked as she pulled back only a fraction. "Just fucking kiss me." Andy noted that the other woman's hands were tangled in her hair and the slight pain that accompanied a sharp tug back into the nearly desperate body fueled her own growing arousal. She allowed her hands to loosen from their grip on the shapely hips and begin to trail lightly up along the pale, warm gray silk blouse, tracing muscles as they flexed, then back down, to the camel colored wool skirt that so tightly hugged firm, muscular globes.

Their mouths continued a sensual dance of lapping tongues and nipping teeth, calling up a need that was not going to allow itself to be put off another day.

Andy pulled back and licked the spot just below the silver hair and a delicate ear, eliciting a hissing gasp that she knew meant there would be no stopping, not even for a change of venue. She sucked at the point, not enough to mark, but to indicate she understood, as her hands worked the zipper at the back of Miranda's skirt.

For her part, Miranda was not idle and she released the dark locks to skitter touches along the black silk blouse, arching back slightly to allow her fingers to seek the release of a dozen buttons. When she pulled the tails from Andy's jeans and they refused to give she gripped the fabric and tugged, her triumphant sigh mingled with Andrea's quiet "oh god!" and the near silent pinging of buttons careening off furniture as the fragile threads gave way. The editor slid her mouth back up along the strong jaw line and tugged at full lips, made redder by the aggressive attention, and demanded immediate entrance. She had to choke off a startled yelp as her nipples were firmly pinched through the fabric before the material was shoved upwards and questing fingers fumbled only briefly with the front clasp of her bra.

Suddenly Miranda was removed completely from the embrace, back firmly pressed against the wall, blouse pushed up, bra dangling uselessly and her skirt hanging limply from her hips. Firm hands on her upper arms kept her in place as she was ensnared in brown eyes made nearly completely black by their desire.

"Miranda." Andy whispered, "my beautiful Miranda." And then the blouse was suddenly gone as was the bra and skirt and she was clad only in thigh highs, heels and the barest wisp of a triangle of silk, whose darkening gave away her high state of need.

They held eye contact for several heartbeats longer until Andy broke away, smoky, dark eyes raking the length of her form, stopping as if fascinated by the juncture of her arousal. A pink tongue unconsciously licked the full lips setting off another wave of wetness and a whimper. When Miranda attempted to re-engage a kiss she was held back with a firm palm to her breastbone.

"Please stay." Andy met her eyes for the briefest of moments as she pushed Miranda back lightly until she once again rested against the wall and then sank to her knees, immediately burying her nose and mouth in the silk and flesh.

Miranda let out a strangled moan, biting her lip to keep the keening wail she knew was just beneath the surface, at bay. The lips and tongue moving along her slit, teasing through the now soaked silk, sent waves of pleasure skittering up and down her nerve endings, electricity tingling along her spine. Feeling suddenly unsteady she reached one hand back against the smooth plaster and the other into the mass of dark brown curls tickling her thighs.

Andy soon tired of the silken barrier and tugged the thin strip down, lifting a tautly straining leg and caressing down until she pulled a silk clad foot up and out of the olive green, four inch suede Ferragamo pump, allowing it to drop to the floor. She swiftly removed the other foot from its lofty prison, tossing the shoe to the side without care, and draped the stocking clad thigh over her shoulder. Unable to wait another moment she dove back in with her tongue, reaching up and in as far as she could go, while her hands squeezed the flexing muscles of the now shaking woman's ass, dragging her forward as she began a slow, rhythmic lapping of the copious moisture.

Miranda was quickly becoming unglued, forgetting everything except the unrelenting friction of soft tongue and now, "Ohhh!", what felt like two fingers sliding up and in, joining the dance that was rapidly spiraling her upwards towards bliss. She tightened her own fingers, grasping at anything to keep her from completely losing all touch with her surroundings but lost the battle when lips and tongue combined with the now rapidly pumping digits sent her head flying towards the wall and back stiffening in a nearly painful arch of flesh and muscle in spasm. She held on at the precipice for precious seconds, not wanting the perfect moment to pass but with another twist of questing fingers hitting just the right spot she found herself lost in a blinding white light that cascaded through every synapse and tore a strangled near-scream from her throat.

The normally iron-controlled CEO slumped, boneless, and would have slid down the wall if not for Andy's quick reflexes; instead she was caught and held while soft, moist fingers slid anew against the twitching nerves bringing another, smaller, quake which this time resulted in a total loss of all ability to remain upright.

Draped completely over the nearly fully dressed woman below her, Miranda attempted to bring herself back, focusing on a lilting chanting of her name, blended with words that spoke of love and exquisite care. She felt herself lowered further until she was nearly stretched out, her human cushion shifting slightly with each inhale and exhale. When finally she opened her eyes it was to be captured in a burning gaze so hot she felt her insides clench once again as lips melted into her own.

Aware that the woman below her was probably desperate by now for her own release she somehow managed to dredge from her unfailing reserve the energy necessary to lift herself up and remove the constricting denim that separated her from her prize. Once free she immediately attacked the nearest nipple with teeth and tongue through the lace of Andy's black bra as she slid two fingers up and into a tight, wet welcome. Andrea was well past the point of need for any type of foreplay and she bit down hard as she drove a third finger in, pressing her thumb into the rock hard bundle of nerves. This sent Andy over the edge, heel of her hand pressed firmly against her mouth to stifle the moans and near shout as she tumbled into the sharp joy of her climax.

They laid there tangled, sweaty and very disheveled, for some moments each drawing strength from every breath taken in the others' arms.

"Holy fuck Miranda!" Andy whispered as she ran shaky fingers through the sweat-dampened silver strands, caressing the planes of a barely lined face where it lay upon her breast. "Never in my life…" Her voice trailed off and Miranda chuckled ruefully.

"I believe, Andrea," she paused and licked her lips, "that I can return the sentiment." The reality of her position and the fact that her daughters were only a scant few doors down the hall, caused the woman to prop herself up and shake her head. "Insanity," she murmured, but the moment she looked down and caught sight of the wantonly disheveled woman beneath her all care flew from her mind. A carefree, bubble of laughter rose from within and she leaned in and delivered another soul-stealing kiss.

Andy pulled back suddenly, eyes flashing with desire once again. "Mmm, Miranda, you need to stop or I'm not going to let you off this floor."

It took several seconds while the older woman considered; they'd gotten away with it so far, did she want to push her luck? Andy noted the pursed lips and knew a decision had been made, sure she was disappointed, but neither of them wanted one of the girls to try the door and find it locked. As it was, she looked down, she was going to need a new shirt.

Miranda noted the inner conversation Andrea was conducting and raised an eyebrow. "I'll simply tell them you had an issue with your wine glass." She paused with a devilish gleam, "After all, it would be a completely plausible scenario with you wouldn…ugh!"

Andy wasn't about to let that insult reach the light of day and grabbed her, rolling them over so Miranda was now on her back. "Oh no you didn't!" Any laughed as a loud shriek broke the quiet of the room as she used her knowledge of Miranda's tickle spots to good advantage.

"Please, please stop!" Miranda breathlessly pleaded as she struggled to move away from the questing fingers, capitulating quickly. Andy paused in her assault and she regarded the disheveled woman below her with a large smile.

Miranda narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Sometimes it just hits me that I'm with you like this and it's real." Andy whispered. "Not just anyone gets to see this side of you. Thank you."

Miranda raised her hand and pushed several wild strands of hair behind an ear. "You don't have to thank me. I should be thanking you, you make it possible; somehow the _Ice Queen_ just doesn't have a prayer when she's next to you."

They shared another moment of comfortable silence and then Miranda lightly swatted at the elegant curve of a taut behind. "C'mon you, I believe it would be in our best interests to make ourselves look presentable."

Once they were standing and putting their clothes in order Miranda offered with a sly smile. "Perhaps you would like a ride home tonight? Hmm?"

Andy slid her jeans up toned thighs, "Oh yeah, I think I like that idea, you wouldn't be able to stay would you?"

"Cara is back now so, yes, depending upon how the girls react, I would like that."

l l l l l l l

The next day found Andy at her desk at quarter past eight with a steaming Americano, chocolate chip scone and a large smile upon her face. The girls did not react badly at all when their mother had asked how they would feel if she were to spend the night at Andy's. They were more concerned about the roads being unsafe but Miranda had reassured them that they would be fine.

She sighed. Oh yeah, it was fine alright. Better than fine. She picked idly at the flaky scone and gently rocked her chair side to side, remembering the best part, waking up next to the beautiful woman. They hadn't had a chance to do that but one other time since they first had gotten together the month prior and it weighed on her. She wondered if this was how their life was destined to be, constant demands on time from all corners. Andy remembered what it was like for the editor when all she had to contend with was running the magazine; now it was Runway and all of Elias-Clarke. She had an inkling that Miranda had something in the works but they had yet to discuss it; she didn't even know if she would discuss it with her.

Suddenly her mood drooped a little. Everything was so new and there were so many things to think and talk about but there just wasn't time. And when they were together…well, when they were alone they really didn't spend a lot of time talking. It was too new, the sexual energy too overwhelming to ignore.

A new email chimed, drawing her from her musing and she looked around to see if anyone had witnessed what she was sure was an extremely dopey look on her face. She was in love and it was really difficult to keep the evidence of such from being broadcast like a flashing neon sign. At least the speculation had died down somewhat; not being seen climbing into tinted glass, chauffeured Mercedes or strutting around in designer shoes helped. They were definitely keeping things on the subtle end of the dating scale. She opened her email and started planning her next story, a piece on the eating habits of New Yorkers and how they compared nutritionally to other U.S. cities. She shook her head and sighed for what felt like the one hundred thousandth time hoping that once the corruption story was finished that it would finally mean the end to the mindlessness to which she'd been assigned.

l l l l l l l

"Erica." The carefully moderated tone, slightly bored, yet with a question hidden, floated out of the editor's office.

The two assistants looked at one another briefly and the new first looked sharply at her recently hired replacement. "She means you." She smirked, covering her continuing disbelief, and returned her eyes to the computer screen, still processing that since Emily's promotion two days prior and after only three months on the job; she was now the one with seniority. Her only prayer each night was that she wouldn't somehow screw it up.

Antonia flew from _The Devil's_ office like her ass was on fire, grabbing her coat before nearly tripping as she flung herself towards the elevator banks and Erica pondered how long it would take her to realize that in order to actually make the coffee run under ten minutes she would need to take the stairs down. She shook her head, four weeks; it had taken her four weeks to finally get a clue and realize she needed to be more proactive. She had it down to eight minutes as she learned to call ahead. There were rumors that someone before her had managed it in five but that was simply impossible and she disregarded it as myth.

"Erica." This time the tone had just a little more firmness and the first assistant was up from her desk and clutching her iPhone in one swift motion.

"Yes Miranda."

Miranda looked at the girl, mid-length sandy blond hair, average height, size four, passable dress and nodded internally; she had hope that this girl, so untried, would be able to withstand the pressure and perform to the potential she had seen when she was first hired.

"Please see that these," she handed several layout boards over "get to Emily immediately then call Robert and tell him I need to move the February shoot in St. Croix up a week then get me someone competent in Finance to explain directly to me why the final end of year reports have not yet landed on my desk." Miranda swiveled lightly in her chair, eyes focused like a laser. "And then tell _New Girl_ if she can't get my coffee in ten minutes next time that she's fired. That's all."

Once Erica scurried from her office Miranda pulled the glasses from her face and rubbed lightly at the corner of her eyes. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night prior and it was starting to catch up to her. She turned away from her desk and stood, walking to stand by her window, face away from the outer office. She needed to somehow get her brain to focus back on her work and not on the absolute sensuality experienced in the arms of her much younger lover. _Honestly, are you eighteen? Mooning about like a teenager._ But even her internal snark had no heat, eclipsed by the brightly burning passion generated whenever Andrea and she were alone. She'd had more orgasms in one month than in the last ten years put together; she wasn't counting the ones she'd faked but smirked when she realized it may well surpass that number too.

Stretching lightly she noted that she wasn't as stiff as she'd been when they first started; the improved exercise routine was paying off. This pleased her and momentarily lifted her spirits until she considered that she would not be able to see the reporter until the wee hours of Saturday morning as she had asked Andrea to stay the night after the concert with Caroline. Miranda would not be available until probably one or later due to two video-conference calls scheduled with potential advertisers for Australian and Hong Kong Runway. At least she would be in the same house for those but still, she was beginning to grow impatient and resentful of every demand that took her from _**her **_girls; all three of them.

A rustle of material and the shuffling of hurried footsteps on carpet broke her from her reverie as a flustered _New Girl_ bustled in with what Miranda hoped was a searing hot latte otherwise she may be forced to unload some of her newly found angst on the unsuspecting scatterbrain. The ringing of the phone and Erica's confident, "I have Robert", pushed her from the window with a light sigh and back to her job.

l l l l l l l


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers and notes; you consent that you are of age by continuing to read. This chapter rated R

**Chapter Two**

Friday afternoon Andy was hurriedly attempting to tie up all the loose ends so she could leave and not return until Monday. She glanced at the time on her computer, four-thirty; she was hoping to be out of the office at the latest five-thirty to give herself enough time to make it up to the townhouse by six as she had promised Caroline. She had also been nervously anticipating a conversation with her boss that had yet to occur; she had sent the completed embezzlement story to him the day prior and had yet to hear anything.

"Sachs," the disembodied voice of her boss floated over the speaker of her phone "when you get a minute, come to my office."

Andy started and swallowed; _speak of the devil_, hurriedly put the finishing touches on some copy and hit save.

As she walked she spared a moment to ponder his reaction; it was a testament to her increasing self-confidence that she didn't immediately expect the worst.

She stuck her head in his office, the rest following at his nod. "Hey Greg."

"Andy, hey, have a seat." He gestured towards the simple metal chair positioned in front of his desk.

She shifted once, trying to find a comfortable position on the thinly padded seat and then assumed a relaxed pose that belayed the minor anxiety she was feeling. Greg regarded her for several moments in which time she casually met eye contact, examining his posture, searching for clues as to his reaction.

"Interesting email you sent me yesterday. You've been here a little over a year and I know the caliber of story assigned to you hasn't been all that challenging but, in spite of that, you've managed to stick to it and produce good pieces. Now you bring me this. You're leaving me no choice now."

He paused, an inscrutable look on his face, "I personally conducted the fact-checking and I'm impressed, it'll run as soon as your source indicates the grand jury is going to act. And, starting Monday, you'll start seeing more challenging projects coming your way. There's no money for a raise just yet but you'll have the opportunity to see your by-line on something other than those human interest stories we've been using as filler." He watched as the slightly guarded expression melted into a near face-splitting smile that warmed his slightly bitter, cynical heart.

He hid it well and barked, "Don't let it go to your head!" and then allowed a smile of his own. "Have a good weekend. Now, get out of my office, don't you have some work to do?"

Andy was so excited she didn't know what to do first, call everyone she knew or jump up and down and squeal. She opted for neither and instead managed to hold dignity and offer a gracious "Thank you; you won't be disappointed!"

That she managed to nearly choke on the word "disappointed" was not lost on her; even with her relationship with her former boss and the fact that they had worked through Paris and her leaving, that word, and its entire connotation, still held a certain power over her, Miranda's "biggest disappointment".

She practically floated back to her desk and plopped down gracelessly. _Finally! Hot damn!_ Now if only she could just talk to her lover for five minutes. She glanced at her watch, four-forty five, it was worth a try, she fired off a text asking if it was a good time to call but had to wait five minutes before a simple, "No" was sent back. Disappointed but understanding that the woman was probably in the middle of a meeting she decided it was for the best as she still had a bit more to do so focused on clearing her desk.

At five to six she was walking up the steps to the townhouse, having just hung up from telling her parents the good news. Both of them were very proud even if her father seemed to be grudgingly so as Andy realized that every success only cemented for him that she was never going to move back to her hometown.

Before she even had a chance to knock the door flew open and an overly excited Caroline practically dragged her into the house. "I'm ready!"

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Andy and Caroline arrived home at ten minutes to midnight, exhausted but exhilarated. The concert had been a pleasant surprise to Andy in so much as it wasn't too dreadful but it was her young charge's reaction that made her night. Caroline appeared to have a great time, screaming, jumping up and down, dancing and when the reporter had reached up high and caught the ball cap that had been tossed by the singer into the audience, Andy thought the young girl was going to hyperventilate; she was pretty sure that that simple grab was going to cement a positive rep with the often mercurial pre-teen for quite some time to come. Of course it hadn't hurt either that she used her press ID to gain access to the backstage and arranged for a quick meet and greet that resulted in the cap being signed. Nope, that didn't hurt one bit.

The subway trip back to the townhouse was filled with nearly non-stop chatter that didn't cease until they were climbing the stairs and opening the front door. Then it was as if all the air was let out of Caro's balloon (at some point in the evening the girl told her it was alright if Andy used the diminutive form of her name) and she barely dragged herself up to her room.

Andy stopped by the kitchen for a bottle of water and picked up her briefcase and overnight bag from the floor of the study where she had left them earlier in the evening. As she proceeded up the stairs the door to the upstairs den was still closed and Andy could just hear the muted tones of her lover's voice through the door. Hoping that she would finish early Andy completed her nightly routine and snuggled under the covers with her laptop, intent on doing some mindless surfing to keep her awake.

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Miranda looked at the clock and yawned; fifteen after one. She had just concluded a very trying but ultimately successful negotiation with a new advertiser based out of Sidney and yet found she still had some energy flittering through her system that she knew would keep her from sleep.

She pulled her journal from its new home in the second drawer of her desk in this, the more private of her work spaces, and took a moment to order her thoughts.

_This pace is beginning to truly wear on me and my children as well. Still, I've somehow managed to keep the Tuesday night dinners, with the addition of Andrea._

_Andrea. I do not believe in a god per se but somehow feel that there is a greater force that ties us all together. This young woman in my life feels like a gift directly from the source of all that is good and beautiful in the universe. She is only one flight up, in my bed right now, and in only a span of minutes I will climb those stairs and settle into sleep beside her._

Blue gray eyes shifted away from the page and stared unseeing into the space of the room. Images of that first weekend spent at Andrea's apartment, of the overwhelming anxiety wrought from the surety of knowledge that the actions of her distant past would drive her good hearted lover away.

_I find that I am still somewhat stunned that the woman has not, after seeing me at one of my worst moments, simply run as far and as fast as she was able. But no, instead that long weekend of intense physicality and naked emotion has brought her even closer. She has not judged me, not once. I know now, not even in Paris._

She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to simply exist with the feelings so crystalline, so real.

_I am indeed humbled by this gift._

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A few minutes later Miranda was quietly opening the door to her bedroom, the soft light of a single bedside lamp warming everything it touched. Exhausted eyes immediately sought the form her heart was missing, finding instead of sparking brown eyes, dark waves of thick hair cascading over pillow and sheets; the rhythmic rise and fall of both comforter and the laptop precariously perched atop the quiescent form, indicative of her slumber. The contemplative mood of her journaling was thus continued, only now joined by a feeling of such intense warmth and caring that she stopped mid-stride and just stared as the corners of her mouth moved unconsciously into an upward curl of her lips. After only moments, or perhaps it was minutes, she shook herself and went about the business of preparing for bed.

Before joining the still sleeping Andrea she removed and closed the laptop, placing it on the nightstand and then moved around to her side of the bed, sliding with a relieved sigh into the silky softness of a ridiculously high thread-count. She was careful to not disturb her sleeping companion but even unconscious the younger woman was aware of her proximity and moved into the warmth of her body. Kissing the brow of the head now tucked neatly into the crook of her neck Miranda reached over and tapped off the lamp; it took only minutes before she too was drifting into dreams of softness, warmth, light and love.

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Miranda surfaced gradually, becoming aware of several sensations, some pleasurable and one not so. Warm soft lips were nibbling across her collarbone and wandering hands stroked lightly along the sides of her breasts, increasing in their scope with each pass. Unfortunately neither of those sensations were able to overcome the heavy tightness in her lower belly and as those strokes turned into more of a sensual massage she noted the soreness of her breasts; what was usually deeply arousing was at the moment only increasing her discomfort. She just wanted it all to stop and she groaned, but not in a good way.

Immediately all activity ceased and a questioning voice, still gravelly with sleep, queried. "Miranda? You alright?"

The older woman stretched and pushed back lightly on Andy's arms, silently asking her to move back and give her some space. She bit back the first words upon her tongue which would have been considerably more barbed than the other woman deserved, opting instead to pull one of Andy's hands towards her, placing a soft kiss on the palm. "Cramps." She muttered. _Perfect timing_. She was not amused, as a matter of fact she realized that uncharacteristically she could cry. Instead she rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom, closing the door.

Andy plopped back into the softness of the bed, the sexual energy she had awakened with waning and she drifted back into sleep. The dipping of the bed roused her and she rolled over to take in the pale face next to her. "Hey. Are they bad?"

Miranda closed her eyes and gritted out, "Let's just say I don't think the ibuprofen can work fast enough."

Andy reached out to the other woman, "C'm here."

"Andrea, I don't feel…"

"No, that's not what I have in mind." She smirked. "Although in my experience a good orgasm can do wonders for cramps." Before Miranda could protest she continued. "Roll over."

Miranda wanted to protest but the softness of her lover's voice soothed her consternation. This had never been an issue before; whenever she was near this time of the month she would sleep alone, Stephen relegated to his own room. With the girls' father she would just ignore him and he would get the message immediately and retreat to his side of the bed or get up and start his day. Really, when her body decided to rebel like this, and it wasn't like this every month, indeed she was getting to the point where there were months when she didn't even bleed, all she wanted to do was curl into a little ball and go back to sleep. She was startled out of her musing by a pair of warm hands settling on her lower back where they rested for a moment. Miranda then let out a low moan as those same hands started a gentle massage, seeming to know just where to apply pressure and where to be more gentle.

Andy felt when the muscles relaxed and knew she had somehow won a minor victory; never mind that she didn't know that a battle had been underway. Getting to know the editor was sometimes like negotiating a well camouflaged mine-field; you had to constantly expect the unexpected and be ready to switch gears at a moment's notice. But this ability is what had made her such a good assistant; she was glad she hadn't forgotten the skill set. After long minutes of gentle attention Andy could tell that Miranda had drifted back into sleep so curled her long body up close and followed.

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When next Andy awakened she could tell that it was much later into the morning and was surprised that the woman next to her continued her slumber. She propped herself up on her elbow and took advantage of the moment as it was a rare thing; the tireless executive was usually the first to arise. She brushed the long lock of silver hair back from her eye and took in the paler than normal skin and the slight darkening under her eyes; the woman had to be exhausted. She was just about to get up and jump into the shower when pale eyelashes fluttered open, eyes reflecting more gray than blue.

Andy couldn't help the smile that spread across her face; she loved this woman more than she ever thought possible, the joy of that knowledge warming her from the inside out.

Miranda had been dreaming of swimming; water warm, caressing and thick, almost like honey. She pushed with strong strokes thoroughly submerged and found to her surprise that breathing was unnecessary. It was dark and something brushed slightly against her forehead; she opened her eyes and found instead of a dark sea the deep brown eyes of her Andrea.

"Hey, feeling better?" Was softly whispered and the recollection was gathered with the dull ache still present in her belly.

"Hmm." She stretched, still under a warm pile of butter-smooth sheets and the softest comforter available. "Better."

"But still not a hundred percent?" Andy saw the answering head tilt, intuiting that a profusion of conversation would not be particularly welcome this morning, and reached around to run hands over both side and lower back, seeking any lingering tightness and working it until she could feel the muscles give way.

The massage, offered so lovingly, soothed the last of Miranda's consternation at how the morning was proceeding. This was definitely not what she had had in mind when she had desired her younger lover's presence in her bed this morning. The girls by now would have been long gone; a day with friends having been planned earlier in the week. They were blessedly alone, Cara, after delivering her children to their destination, spending the day with her mother.

_And yet._ She luxuriated in the simple care and tenderness and found that something was settling within her that she had not known was amiss. A tiny worry tucked far into her subconscious that for Andrea the fire of her emotions were centered only upon the sexuality, the intense pyrotechnics generated in the newness of their coupling. This intimate…she searched for a word as she stretched further and offered more of her aching body to the wonderful movement of the brunette's hands…_loving_…yes, it was simple loving, moved her deeply and before she could prevent it, a single tear escaped, carrying with it words that she still somehow could not enunciate.

Andy saw the tear and stopped all movement. Instead she cupped the other woman's face and looked deeply into her eyes. "Miranda?"

The editor merely shook her head and reached up to soothe away the worry gathering in the normally smooth skin around concerned eyes. "Just…thank you." And then she gathered Andrea in and held her tight, content in a way she had never been before.

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That Tuesday evening Andrea was once again seated with the Priestly family at the kitchen table. The twins were excitedly discussing Andy's article which had run that morning on the front page of The Mirror. When Andy had told Miranda about it on Saturday morning the editor was gratified that her employer was finally seeing the potential that the younger woman offered; having read the article beforehand, she knew it would be well-received.

"I've been assigned to follow the case as it makes its way through the court." Andy finished her plate and sipped idly at her wine.

Miranda huffed. "Well, I for one am glad that someone has been able to finally get proof that this activity has been going on. It has been rumored for some time that this was occurring but no one has ever been able to pin it down. This city has so many financial challenges that it's unconscionable that a trusted public servant be profiting when the city can't even find a way to clear out even the simplest of snowfalls."

Andy looked at the other woman and smirked; despite her well-deserved reputation for ruthlessness, she was incredibly honest. "Well I don't think he'll be finding much sympathy from anyone anytime soon. Your opinion is shared by many in the city, both in and out of government." She felt proud that even though the council member under indictment was able to post bail he was unable to muster a public defense due to the research she had conducted.

The girls were heading up to do their homework as the two women cleared away the plates. "Have you heard from your parents today?"

Andy smiled although it was mixed with a bit of sadness. "Yeah, mom was really excited. Dad, well, I told you how he was on the phone the other day. Kind of reserved. Now, seeing it in print, I think it's all coming home for him. I know he's proud but another part of him is," she hesitated, searching for the words, "he's just really quiet, brooding kind of."

This elicited an expressive eye-roll. "Why do men always have to be so controlling? If this were Cass or Caro there would be no doubt for them that I found their achievement to be nothing but a cause for celebration. I am sorry Andrea."

"Hey, it's not your fault." Andy stepped towards Miranda as she placed the final plate in the dishwasher.

"Hmm, yes, I know. I just can't help but wonder how it will be once he finds out that his daughter is a lesbian in fact, not just theory, and that she has taken up with _'The Devil'_ herself." She spat the last part out laced with an almost defeated bitterness.

Andy blew the bangs out of her face and grasped at Miranda's hands tightly. "Stop it!"

Widened steely gray eyes flickered upwards, surprise at the outburst clearly showing.

"Don't disparage yourself like that." Andy's words held not a little heat and she barreled on before the mild self-chastisement could continue. "I wish I knew what I could do or say to stop this doubting of yourself, of us. I wish you could see yourself as I do. I don't care what anyone else thinks or says. You are fucking awesome, so, get over it! You, Miranda Priestly, are stuck with me!"

Miranda could only shake her head, aware that once again her insecurities had slipped through. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "You are…"

"Ridiculous." They said in tandem and Andy laughed. "Maybe I am, but that doesn't change that I'm yours and you're mine. Or," her voice turned playful, "have you changed your mind?"

Miranda knew enough that now was not the time to give in to the seductive lure of her own doubts. Instead she bolstered herself with her natural aplomb. "Of course not, silly girl. As a matter of fact," her voice wavered for just a moment with nervousness before she got it under control, "I was wondering if you were free two nights from now."

Andy recalled her calendar and could find nothing that couldn't be done earlier or later and said as much.

"Good, expect the car at half past six on this Thursday."

"You're not going to tell me where we're going?"

The other woman merely grinned, confidence now back at one hundred percent and playfully borrowed a line often uttered outside her office doors by Emily, recalling the accent of her youth but with a deep, husky pitch that her ginger-haired former assistant would never have aimed at the former second.

"No. Shan't."

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The following day at work a messenger showed up at Andy's cube just after lunch, garment bag in hand. Several of her coworkers stopped what they were doing and stared and she caught a few whispered notes of speculation. She didn't even have to guess who it was from and internally rolled her eyes, knowing that the speculation that had died down at the end of the prior month was going to be given a fresh set of legs. Not that she really minded; she hadn't really thought too heavily on the subject but really, how bad could it be? Her concerns of being outed focused on Miranda and the girls; she didn't want them to be subjected to the intrusion their relationship would generate. Of course then there were her parents and their reaction to Miranda; she was not looking forward to that in the least but she figured she'd still have a good bit of time before she'd have to go there with them.

She eyed the bag, now hanging on the low cube wall, with speculation and a good deal of curiosity when she pulled the simple card from its heavy envelope.

_Wear this tomorrow. M_

She smiled at the simplicity and dared to unzip the bag, conscious of the many curious eyes, some not even trying to disguise their interest. She gasped as the black silk brushed against her hand, softer than any cloth that had ever touched her body. From her limited vantage point, because she had already decided she wasn't extracting the outfit in public, it appeared to be a blouse and skirt set; a wide black patent leather belt hanging behind. From the bulge in the side of the bag she could tell that shoes were also going to be found and her heart raced at the reveal; Louboutins, the same leather as the belt with three wide straps that would undoubtedly climb her ankle, capped by silver buckles. Shiny. Spectacular. Completely inappropriate for work.

_How the hell am I going to wear this tomorrow?_ She pondered the question. She could change in the work washroom but still, the majority of her peers would still be around and get a hell of a show; that skirt looked like it didn't leave much to the imagination, resting far higher than workday propriety. She worried her lip as she put everything back. _What is she thinking; doesn't she realize that this would cause talk?_ Still, there was something about the fact that Miranda wanted her in something so provocative that caused her thighs to clench together. That's when she realized; Miranda knew exactly what she was doing to Andy and at specifically just this second.

The _Dragon Lady _had tossed down the gauntlet.

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Later that same night, in the cover of darkness and the safety of her own apartment, Andy thoroughly explored the garment bag, which now lay discarded on the floor. She surveyed with wonder not only the outfit but the accompanying undergarments she had discovered tucked into another of the bag's seemingly endless compartments.

The bra was a La Perla masterpiece from the LP Design Collection, The Balconette; a geometric motif with four intricately woven strands crossing horizontally bordering sheer tulle segments; the matching thong and garter left no doubt that Miranda had every intention of unwrapping her at some point in the evening.

She eyed the skirt which was a heavy silk, but it looked like it was made of bands of material the width of a seatbelt. She then remembered one similar to it at Runway, someone had referred to it as "bandage style"; what concerned her the most was that it was going to definitely cling to every curve of her ass and thigh; at least what little of her thighs that were actually covered.

_Christ, I'm getting wet just looking at it!_ Andy shook her head and put everything away, Thursday, was only the next day and couldn't come fast enough. She still wasn't sure how she was going to manage the logistics but…suddenly a flash of inspiration hit. Although it still didn't solve her fashion dilemma it did offer her a way to get a little back from the woman who had so tantalizingly challenged her.

She shrugged out of her yoga pants and fleece long-sleeve and settled the bra and thong on her long frame. She then grabbed her iPhone and flipped it to camera mode snapping off a couple of strategically cropped images and one scanning video, making a few adjustments to her attire as she went. Grinning evilly she surveyed the work and decided that the video would do nicely in making one naughty power broker forget whatever it was she was currently wrapped up in. Adding a few words of text she hit send and then settled back into her warm, comfy clothes, satisfied that she was getting the last…word. Chuckling and wishing she could see the reaction, she headed to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.

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Miranda looked up from her desk in the second floor study of her home at the subtle chime of her phone. She had yet to hear from her lover and wondered if perhaps the incoming text was finally her. Unfortunately she was currently involved in a four-way video conference which meant she wouldn't be able to engage, but still, she could discretely check the message; curiosity at how her gift was received nearly overwhelming.

Once again she admonished herself for acting like a besotted teen, but it was without heat. The girl had gotten in and she was getting better at accepting it.

She looked up as someone asked her a question and her response was terse and brief. _Honestly, how much longer am I going to have to endure this endless prattle?_ Miranda had found that the most trying requirement of her position as board chair of Elias-Clarke was that she had to play nice with the other big dogs. No, she didn't completely change her personality or style, she would never accept bullshit or less than competent work, but ninety-five percent of the people she dealt with as board chair were power males, many of whom did not respond well to not having an opportunity to 'dazzle' her with their greatness. So a modification was made, she would listen first, then skewer as she saw fit; it made for many long nights.

Once she was certain all eyes were back on the pointless monologue she discreetly maneuvered her phone until she was able to hold it below the camera's sightline, cradled in her lap.

She was surprised that the message was not just a regular text, but being distracted by her meeting, didn't think anything more of it, hitting the play button.

The video began with an ankle, pale, pale skin revealed slowly as the camera slid gracefully up a toned calf. Next came the bend of a knee and then a long sloping curve of well developed thigh, starting in the back and snaking slowly up the front.

Miranda swallowed heavily and a wash of heat cascaded from head to foot; very nearly like that first hot flash she had so recently experienced. A perfectly manicured nail paused the video just as the outline of the Bordeaux colored thong came into view, squirming in her seat which suddenly felt rather damp.

_That woman was trouble!_ She tilted her head down slightly to hide the sudden grin. _But the kind of trouble I most love to have. _ Hearing her name she was forced to drag her bespectacled eyes from the tiny screen. Answering yet another inane question Miranda was soon able to deflect the attention with a well pointed query of her own that sent the troublesome boor into a tailspin and this time she didn't try to hide her smile. Of course it wasn't nearly as nice as the one formed moments before.

Unknowing of just what exactly Andrea had in store with the remainder of her little peepshow, the executive debated whether or not she dared continue. That there was no sound ended up being the deciding factor and, after one final check that no one was paying her any particular attention, she resumed the playback.

The camera remained for another couple of seconds focused on that thin strip of material before traveling back, dipping slowly down the swell of a magnificent ass. Memory of mapping that marvel with her tongue drew an unconscious flicker of that tongue along her lips and a sigh escaped as the ascent drew lazily around and up a slightly rounded belly until just the edge of the top garment came into view, hugging the side of a well formed and proportioned...

"Miranda, do you have anything to add?" The male voice intruded and the editor started imperceptibly.

She managed to croak out a nearly strangled "That's all." nodding once to the others as she hastily dragged the mouse pointer over the browser window's "x", closing out the entire screen without bothering with a proper logout. She really had no idea how the call had ended but didn't care in the least; she had made her point, it was up to them to work it out.

The video had continued its playback and when she glanced back at the screen the creamy breasts were only minimally framed by sagging material, somewhere in the journey her teasing lover had disengaged the fasteners and was now engaged in a sensual striptease. Oh yes, the woman internally purred, this was turning into a most wonderful distraction. The camera wavered slightly and then moved to where the skin was tightening into a hard peak; just a little farther and the straining nipple would be seen in all its tantalizing beauty; her mouth watered at the thought and she felt the heat returning and her free hand unknowingly stroked the top of her thigh. Anticipation. She hummed as the shot lingered, the reporter's chest rhythmically rising and falling with each breath; then… nothing.

The image went blank and all that remained were a few, what she intuited to be, carefully chosen, words.

"_I can feel your eyes on me even now; no doubt one of your beautiful hands close to going to that place I so love. Don't do it. Wait. Wait for me; wait until tomorrow. Will you do that for me Miranda?"_

Miranda balled her hand into a tight fist; the younger woman knew her entirely too well, she was so easy for her attentions. But only Andrea; never had it been this way with any other, one word and she was like a kitten rolling on its back presenting its belly, hopeful for a delightful petting. She squeezed her legs together, it would be so easy and damn it, once again it had been too long since she had had the pleasure of Andrea's full touch; dinner the night before had been limited to a few minutes stolen, deep kisses in the hallway before Andrea had to leave. She had gone years without a decent orgasm not wrought by her own hand, why now was a mere week such a trial?

The slender bodied woman rocked back in her chair, contemplating her current state. She was so hot for it, it wouldn't take but a few strokes to finish. But… the challenge had been passed back and she wasn't about to fail.

With a shake of her head she typed in her reply, looked at the time and grabbed The Book, ever hopeful that some poor fool had performed so badly that she could find some subverted pleasure in an evisceration.

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Andy was sliding under her comforter when she glanced at her phone one last time, realizing the message must have arrived while she was performing her nightly routine.

"_That you are confident enough to know that that little show would make me flow like a river makes this all the sweeter. Remember that sweetness upon your tongue as you slip into sleep tonight; tomorrow is a new day and rest will be far from coming."_

Not for the first time since reconnecting with her former boss did she pause and give a small thank you to the universe. _So beautiful, so intelligent, so goddamned Miranda._ Yes, she, Andrea Sachs, was the luckiest woman in the world. Wonder at and anticipation of whatever awaited the next day infused her with a sense of power that soothed her worries at anyone from work spying her in the outfit. She was going to be with the person of her dreams and nothing else really mattered.

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers and notes; you consent that you are of age by continuing to read. This chapter rated M. Be aware that this chapter contains bondage, spanking and other activities of a D/s nature although still relatively mild considering. If this sets off any squick or triggers please skip ahead; however, it is a key piece to the way that Miranda and Andy's relationship will mature so skip at your own risk!

**Chapter Three**

As Andrea adjusted the last buckle of the wide belt resting on her hips she realized that confidence was truly a matter of focus. Keeping within her sight the purpose of this incredible wrapping of silk, the rigid but comfortable foundation and the outrageously slutty shoes, the junior reporter straightened her spine and, as she left the safety of the newsroom's washroom, rolled her walk into a smooth stalk.

She immediately noticed a distinct shifting in the energy around her. As she passed by the water cooler she noted the sound of liquid hitting linoleum as Ronnie, the sports guy she had briefly flirted with a long time before, didn't notice as he over-filled his ceramic ESPN logo coffee mug; a crash and the sound of papers dropping and skittering greeted her as she passed the copier and one feminine "Holy Christ!" drew a smirk as she moved to hang the garment bag over her cube wall.

She was stooping to scoop her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk when she heard a long slow whistle from some indeterminately near location which apparently was enough to capture her boss' attention as he was passing by, head buried in a sheath of papers.

"Jesus f-ing hell Sachs!" Greg stood slightly slack-jawed and she gave him one of her full-tooth, face splitting smiles. The contrast between the easily recognizable expression of his usually oh-so-earnest and wholesome rising star reporter and the devastatingly sensual beauty of the long body draped in clothes seemingly designed to make every human, male, female, or otherwise and regardless of orientation, dribble into a puddle of primal goo, momentarily froze his brain.

"Uhm, yeah. I'm going to my office now before I say something that would probably get me fired for harassment." He turned and hastily disappeared into the maze of cubes that surrounded his glass-enclosed sanctuary, all the while muttering that it was going to be a long couple of months for the gossip mill this go-around.

Andrea laughed and shrugged into a long, black leather trench that wouldn't keep her warm if she had to spend any length of time in the elements but worked well with the ensemble, having tucked away her more practical coat into the now rather heavy garment bag.

She made her way to the elevator, and straightened even more as she discerned the whispers, determined to pull this show off. She had a fleeting memory of what it felt like the first few days after Nigel's makeover and added a bit more sway to her walk; if she didn't act like she owned it she was perceptive enough to understand that the teasing would be legendary. Endless days of watching _The Dragon_ perform for her minions had communicated to her that if she projected the power that she felt by slipping into the blatantly sexual get-up, the majority of folks would be more than just a little intimidated and perhaps think twice about giving her a hard time. Still, it was with no amount of relief when she found herself alone in the elevator; realizing in the quiet just how much energy it pulled from her to present herself as anything but a pretender.

As it was the last time that Miranda's car had come to ferry her away, the sleek black Mercedes was pulling to the curb just as she was pushing open the oak doors that led to the street. Roy disembarked and took her bag, holding open the door on the passenger side. When she looked at the man quizzically he explained that Miranda was already at the destination and that he was to bring her there to meet her.

Andy allowed herself to be helped into the back seat with a chivalrous hand and then the door closed, blocking all street noise. She settled into the comfortable, electrically warmed leather and listened as Roy opened and closed the trunk, safely squirreling away her belongings. Even though the partition was down, Roy remained uncharacteristically silent, increasing the tension for her as they made their way south in the city.

Butterflies erupted in Andy's stomach as she recognized the familiar landmarks of her old neighborhood as the destination became clear; understanding hatching a million more questions clamoring for attention. They arrived in front of the alley that lead to The Iris and Roy once again offered his hand and then, once she was standing, his elbow as he led her to the discrete entrance of the exclusive club. Once arrived he reached into his pocket, handed her a keycard and, with a tip of his hat and a slight uptick of his lips, left her to head back to the car.

Andy, recalling that the locking mechanism was contained within the plaque on the right, hesitated for only a second before she passed the card over the small bronze square, then tugged at the heavy door after hearing the telltale click of the latch releasing. She stepped into the dimly lit entrance way and was about to make her way down the corridor when she was surprised by a figure that stepped forward from the shadows.

"Oh!" The brunette's head jerked up and she blinked. "Madeline, right? You startled me."

The auburn haired woman introduced to her a month prior as the owner of the club smiled gently and in her lilting French accent apologized. "I am sorry Andrea, I didn't intend to startle you. Come, I am to escort you to Miranda; if you will follow me please?"

The reporter trailed behind as they walked the long corridor; everything was as she remembered; the hanging light fixtures and what she had come to learn was a very carefully crafted air of shabbiness hiding the nature of a lush and exclusive facility above. As they arrived at the large freight elevator Andy's glance flicked towards a nook on the left and flushed as memories of their first kiss sent a fissure of want crackling through her center. She was thus distracted when Madeline delicately cleared her throat and indicated that they should continue their trek, jogging to the right, around a corner to a blank wall. Andy puzzled on this for only a moment until Madeline pressed at a point at the wall's edge and the drywall swung away revealing another elevator, this one of standard size.

Andy's eyes were as big as saucers at the clandestine nature of the setup. "We're not going up to the restaurant?" _Honestly Andy,_ she queried herself in the flavor of ice-queen Miranda voice, _why do you always have to ask the obvious?_

But Madeline didn't seem to mind and smiled. "There is another aspect to our facility that many of our patrons enjoy from time to time and it is found on the lower level."

_Well that didn't help. _ Andy was completely unable to form any hypothesis as to the exact nature of the "aspect" but managed to withhold any further chatter even as her mind tripped over the fact that access needed to be obscured by hidden panels. She trusted Miranda and figured that all would be revealed soon enough.

l l l l l l l

Miranda paced slightly in the small waiting room adjacent to where she knew her lover was soon to be escorted, attempting to reassure herself that she was doing the right thing.

"Chère, are you having doubts?"

She paused and looked at the strikingly tall blond as she straightened the jacket of her charcoal gray Prada suit. "I've never done anything like this before and am finding that I'm suddenly very nervous."

"Are you nervous about what we are about to do? Because remember, you have the power, I am only to be the tool for you and your Andrea's learning."

She snipped brusquely, "Yes. Yes I understand that…", but allowed her voice to trail off, and when she next spoke had modified the sharpness of her tone. "I am just hopeful that Andrea will understand it, otherwise this could all go horribly wrong."

The blond, whose hair was pulled tightly into a severe bun and was named Katrine, smiled. "Andrea, she loves you, no?" At the silver-haired nod Katrine continued, "And she is of an open mind?" With another tilt of the regal head the blond resolved, "Then of course, it will be all right."

l l l l l l l

They exited the elevator into a dimly lit space with walls painted such a deep shade of maroon to almost be black. The clacking of their heels echoed slightly on the cement floor as they wound along a hall with many doors and stopped at the next to last one before a curve that Andy intuited opened into a larger space.

Madeline waved her card over another bronze plaque and opened the door, allowing Andy to enter ahead of her. She looked around, expecting to see her elusive lover but finding nothing but a warmly lit, high ceilinged room with a few comfortable furnishings. Madeline helped her out of her coat and took it, hanging it on one of the clothes hooks mounted on the wall near the entrance, then led her over to a modern style sofa of dark brown leather and indicated that she should sit.

Andy's eyes traced the pale, elegant fingers as they picked up a glass and poured a deep ruby wine from an elegant crystal decanter, extending it to her and then gesturing that she should help herself to the tray of finger-foods.

"Andrea." The word was softly said and it brought the curious woman's eyes up where they were pinned by an intense green; taking her measure. Andy held the gaze, sensing that somehow this was important and was eventually released by a small nod of the other woman's head.

"I have known Miranda for many years and never has she brought anyone to my establishment. She trusts you Andrea, remember that. Now," she held up her hand, staving off the questions that looked as though were being prepared. "I am going to leave, you will understand shortly."

She bent slightly and picked up an envelope from the low table in front of the couch and handed it to her.

"Enjoy yourself my dear; this is all for you."

l l l l l l l

A light tapping on the door to their waiting room indicated that Andrea had been settled next door. Miranda closed her eyes and centered herself with thoughts of the beautiful woman who had come to mean so much to her. _I can do this. _She found she was actually a bit frightened and her hands shook lightly but she realized it was more from the anticipation; this entire idea fascinated her, excited her; she wanted to do this and now she had only to trust that Andrea would get it.

The sharp eyes of a woman who had directed numerous photo-shoots looked at the room she was about to enter, fascinated, everything about it worked with her sense of the aesthetic. She drew a sudden satisfaction at knowing she was about to become a part of it, that Andrea would see all of this plus herself as part of an entire visual arrangement, and knowing what she knew about the young woman, it would definitely create a reaction.

Once again the jitters came to the fore; she had never acted on the stage but imagined that this was what it must feel like to be an actor, waiting in the wings before it was time to take their mark. _Yes, an apt analogy_, she decided. What she was working to create here was no different from the theater she generated every day, positioning models in communication of themes, ideas and concepts only now, she was about to turn the dynamic on its head. This was a bold statement but she would expect no less of herself; she was _**the**_ _Fashion Queen_ and fashion was about being daring and pushing the envelope.

She just wished they would get started; pacing once again in her agitation.

l l l l l l l

Andy looked around the now empty room taking in the curving wall directly in front of her, two thirds of which appeared to be made of some form of glass. But it was black and she found it highly unusual in a place that was mostly comprised of brick and plaster. Indeed the wall to her left was exposed brick, the floor underneath warm wood and the walls behind her and sharing the entrance a deep mocha. The lighting was without a specific source, emanating from behind frosted glass built-ins positioned in the space where the plaster and the brick walls met the ceiling, creating a soothing glow.

Andy sipped her wine and famished, popped one of the small meat treats into her mouth. She eyed the envelope with trepidation understanding on some level that once she opened it things would be different. Finally, after several more bites and swallows of the exquisite vintage she could delay no longer.

Long fingers slipped beneath the heavy ivory paper and pulled out a small folded card. A gasp was pulled from her lips as she read the front.

_Your command is my pleasure._

Andy recognized a play on the wording of the poem she had gifted the editor with at the holiday. Opening the fold with shaking hands her expressive eyes widened and grew moist with emotion.

_My dear Andrea, you have recently expressed to me, quite eloquently, of a desire to explore a dynamic in our relationship with which I am aware neither of us have much experience. I am hopeful that after this evening things perhaps will be made more clear. Please accept this gift in the spirit in which I am offering. M_

The paper fluttered to the table as suddenly nerveless fingers released their hold and she sat in stunned contemplation at what could possibly happen next.

l l l l l l l

Andy Sachs was a practical young woman, raised in the Midwest with a father who espoused his own brand of Midwest values, some of which stuck more than others; educated for the first eight years in a Catholic school; and later attended a college that was still somewhat sheltered. Her mother was a bit of an iconoclast and brought to her a reminder that all in the world was not so black and white and that differences not only existed but that they should be celebrated. Perhaps it was this life-preserver in a sea of stifling rules and "should-nots" that allowed Andy to so easily accept her desire for women and, more recently, her increasing need for sexual expression that included at times more than kisses, an occasional slap on the rear and dirty talk.

But it had never prepared her for what was about to happen next, although in hindsight she did later contemplate that perhaps it helped her to not run scared into the burgeoning night.

l l l l l l l

The silence in the room continued for several long minutes and Andy poured herself another glass of wine as she waited. Nervous energy pushed her out of her seat and she was just about to begin pacing when the lights in her room dimmed and the glass part of the wall before her turned translucent, revealing an adjacent room, the brightness of many lights, the entire ceiling was frosted glass which filtered florescent overheads and what must have been tungsten spots, positioned out of her sightline, that allowed no shadows, making her eyes blink rapidly until they adjusted.

Unlike the space she currently occupied the other was devoid of all warmth as grey veined white marble formed both walls and floor. The room was absent of all furniture save for a heavily cushioned black mat on the floor and a strong looking black table against the back wall upon which set an assortment of, she squinted, paddles, crops and… rope; she swallowed harshly against a suddenly dry throat.

She noticed that the walls were fitted with a variety of black rings, hooks and brackets, _obviously a very adaptable space_. She closed her gaping mouth and began to take in the details as the initial shock began to wear off and her imagination for the use of the space tantalized her with all sorts of interesting scenarios.

She noticed a tiny shake of her hand as she steadied her wine glass for another sip. _Ah, nerves_, they hadn't really gone away and with each ticking second were returning exponentially.

As if in understanding that this was so, there was sudden movement and for the first time in two days the younger woman was able to look upon the love of her life in all her powerful glory for standing in the other room was not just her Miranda, but _The Dragon_ herself. Dressed head to toe in Prada and looking every inch the icy, dominating queen, she stood with the practiced arrogance that had first greeted the clueless college graduate with scathing condescension several years before.

_Wow!_

l l l l l l l

She gazed avidly as Miranda continued to stand in one place, face composed in an expression of bored indifference, while her body projected a will of steel; hands folded neatly in front as her chin jutted out as if in challenge. Andy smiled, Miranda in this incarnation caused grown men to cry and well-adjusted professionals to question their competency. This Miranda used to scare the pee out of her but now, now she was recognized as an integral part of the many layers comprising the complex woman; a never ending puzzle to be solved but at whose core lay a passionate and loving spirit.

_Speaking of puzzles_…she was still trying to figure out exactly what was going to happen, as the conclusion that all evidence pointed to was too incredible to be believed, when a loud "SLAM!" broke the tableau.

Andy jumped it seemed in time with her lover as a door crashing closed broke the contemplative tableau, bringing with it the solid tapping of heels on marble of another woman, the sound of which preceded her body's entrance into Andy's view by several seconds.

The woman moved to stand about three feet away from _The Dragon_ who had regained her composure almost immediately, observing her for several long moments.

Nearly a full head taller than the silver haired queen the newcomer was a vision in black leather; pants that clung tightly to well-developed thighs and ass, gloves that climbed up powerful, forearms to just above the elbow and a halter that revealed tanned, washboard abs so ripped as to almost appear unreal. _Jesus! This woman had to spend half her waking life in the gym! _She shook her head and returned her attention to the developing interplay between Miranda and the other woman.

"Do you have a safe word?" The blonde's thick French accent moved words with intent, modulation quiet and steady, wasting nothing.

Miranda paused and spoke, "Yes."

"Yes?" The blonde prompted.

"Ravitz" Spoken with a slight pursing of her lips. In the other room Andy's eyebrows raised and she snorted. _Classic! _If ever there was a single word that would stop anyone dead in their tracks; that would be it.

"And?" The tall woman appeared deceptively calm and Andy could see the trap even from her seat.

Looking forward at the smooth blank wall of glass-like material, knowing that Andrea was on the other side watching, she faltered. So she opted for silence. After all, no one dared ask a question of _The Dragon_ and she intuited that that rule would apply in this instance also.

Katrine moved well within Miranda's personal space and reiterated the rules. "Let me remind you; you have signed yourself, however provisionally, into my care, you are my slave and I am your mistress. So, I will ask you again," the voice was cold and hard but low and even, "and what?"

"Yes, _mistress_." Miranda kept her jaw squared and her gaze straight ahead; despite her intentions she found that she was unwilling to slide easily into submission.

Katrine looked at her with narrowed eyes, unsurprised that she was being tested. She smiled suddenly and it wasn't altogether pleasant.

"That wasn't the question was it?"

The steel blue eyes cut suddenly to stern pale gray and her mind blanked. "What was the question mistress?"

"I had asked you for your safe word."

Miranda swallowed, gaining a new understanding that the game was designed to make her fail; she needed to be more careful.

"Ravitz; mistress."

"We are not off to a good start slave…" Katrine noted the slight eye twitch and pursed lips at the word and her mouth curled into a playful smile. "You don't understand that I am the one that controls what is about to happen here. You will though. You will not pay for your insolence to this point but moving forward; remember who is your mistress and give me the respect the position requires or you _**will**_ be punished."

The woman stepped back out of the editor's space and waved a dismissive hand. "Remove your clothes and shoes but keep your bra, panties and hosiery on; _**slave**_."

Miranda inhaled sharply, suddenly self-conscious, worried about how her lover was adapting to the scene. But she complied, removing first the jacket, folding it neatly and laying it on an empty corner of the table. Next she unzipped the skirt, fumbling for just a moment with the hook at the top then slowly sliding the wool-silk blend down thighs encased in barely there charcoal stockings. The stiff smoke gray blouse only had three buttons but she took her time with them, until she could feel the impatience rolling off of the other woman and hastened to remove the garment. When Miranda returned to her prior spot she stifled the urge to hide her nearly naked body from the piercing gaze of her tormentor as she had opted for undergarments from Kiki De Montparnasse's Le Fleur Collection and they concealed nothing.

"Nice." Katrine circled her like a predator with each pass narrowing the distance until Miranda could feel hot breath upon her neck as the leather of the other woman's outfit pressed up against her; and then another whisper tickled her ear. "Very nice."

Andy licked her lips at the reveal and blindly lowered her body back to the sofa, mesmerized; beneath the harsh formality of the power suit lay a whisper of light smoke, comprised of intricate, French lace.

Large hands suddenly brushed the entire length of her lover's body, down her sides, over her hips, until they grasped her behind tightly and squeezed. Andy set her wine glass down roughly and her eyes flashed, an intense flare of jealousy stabbing at her chest.

"Present yourself to me. Space your legs so they are equal to your shoulders, bend over at your hips and grasp your ankles. Do you understand?"

Miranda for the first time felt a small flicker of arousal and as her mind substituted Andrea as making the demand it grew into a larger flame; it was distracting and the usually so precise editor forgot herself. "Yes."

A sudden stinging slap met her right ass cheek as she bent, drawing out a startled "Ah!"

"You have forgotten slave already how it is to address your Mistress?" Despite her pique Andy was impressed by the woman's delivery; a siren's sensuality masquerading iron resolve. She returned her wine glass to her hand and sipped, contemplating how closely it mirrored that of _The Dragon_ when in her own realm.

"Yes Mistress, I'm sorry mistress."

"Hold your ankles. Do not rise or let go. You are going to receive five strikes to each side with a wooden paddle. You are not to cry out; do you understand?"

_The Dragon_ nodded her head stiffly and grit out, "Yes mistress. I understand."

"Silence now until I say otherwise." As Katrine reached to select a solid wooden paddle from the table Andy noticed the shadowing of the discrete muscles flexing in her arm and shoulder and the feline grace with which she moved as she returned to stand behind and to the side of the vulnerable editor.

Andrea watched in rapt fascination as the arm gripped the paddle and swung back as though taking a forehanded tennis shot.

SMACK. Andy could see that Miranda winced but she remained silent as the blow contacted her sensitive rear; thong providing no barrier to the impact.

"Count slave."

"Yes mistress. One."

SMACK.

"Two."

And so it continued. Miranda holding in any yelps of pain while maintaining her position and then voicing the tally. Andy found that she was fascinated with the degree of composure she was able to maintain, even though it had to hurt.

Once the last swipe was delivered Katrine put aside the tool and gently stroked the reddened skin; she had modified the force of the blows, mindful that this was more of a demonstration than anything else. "That was very good slave. You did well. Now, it is time for inspection. Lower your panties."

Miranda maintained her bent over position and slowly dragged the scant material down; Andy could see the slight grimace as the taut elastic scraped across her reddened buttocks.

Miranda hesitated as she reached the point where the thong would not travel further without moving her legs.

"What is it, _slave_?" Katrine continued to wield the word like it was one of her tools, relentlessly reminding the powerful woman of her current role.

"Mistress, do you want me to move so I may remove them?"

The question earned her a carefully measured, silkily reverberating rumble of a response. "Did I say I wanted you to remove them?"

"No mistress."

"Then I can only presume that you were trying to tell me what you wanted me to do. That's not what a slave does. A _slave_," She purred as she bent down to drag a hand up from where the strip of material rested and gently stroked up her inner thigh, close but not touching the intimate center. "takes what is given, as your Mistress I decide what you need and give it to you. Do you understand?"

Miranda's voice maintained its even pitch but Andy's knowledge of the other woman allowed her to see that she was beginning to lose her equanimity. "I think I'm beginning to mistress."

Gloved hands trailed slowly back up and around the toned thighs as Katrine bent further and sent an exhalation of breath into the vulnerable woman's ear. "You will understand soon enough."

"Drop to your knees now. Keep your legs parted as they are and don't touch your panties."

Miranda did as requested, relieved that the soft mat below her cushioned her knees adequately.

"Good." The blonde stroked through the silver hair on her head briefly. "That wasn't so hard now."

Miranda almost forgot herself but held her tongue at the last moment, aware that a request for an answer wasn't given. Katrine noticed this and smiled again. "Look at me."

The silver head tilted upwards, hair slightly messed, eyes no longer holding quite the same level of defiance as earlier.

"Very good." She reached out and lightly caressed a milky white cheek, then trailed an index finger down until she reached the top line of her bra. She held it there for a moment and then stepped back abruptly. "But I still need to punish you for trying to top your Mistress slave. Tell me, is that how you are going to behave with your Andrea?" The taller woman leaned over and lowered her voice to its most gravelly. "Or should I say 'Ahn-dray-ah?'." Andy could see a distinct shiver roll through the kneeling body, hardening her nipples that were plainly visible through the whispery fabric and experienced a sympathetic response.

"I want you to put your hands together in front of you, palm to palm, wrist to wrist and hold them there." Katrine pulled a short length of inch thick blue rope off of the table and quickly bound the wrists so little movement was allowed. Then she carefully checked each to ensure that the circulation was not stopped. "You will tell me if you experience any numbness, do you understand?"

"Yes mistress."

"Now, bend over, put your forearms flat on the mat before you, stretching enough so your beautiful ass is tilted up towards the ceiling."

"Good, now bring your head up so your lover can watch your face as you take your punishment."

Katrine stepped over to the table and then to the front and side of the editor so she could plainly see the object held in her hand.

Andy gasped, a riding crop. The effect upon Miranda had to be considerably more pronounced than when the paddle was used. She felt a mix of arousal and reluctance; hoping it wouldn't hurt too badly. She was getting no pleasure from seeing that the other woman was about to experience pain; that she might suffer.

"Five strokes on each buttock and thigh. You will count them out."

"Yes mistress."

"If you should cry out I will add an additional stroke. Do you understand?"

"Yes mistress."

The woman regarded the novice sub for a moment and offered not unkindly. "It is easiest if you relax your muscles; tensing them only makes it worse." She planned on once again modifying the strength of the blows, but still, it would be felt.

And then it started and Miranda stared at her reflection in the glass wall with an intensity rarely exhibited, willing Andrea to watch, finding that within the knowing that the other woman was there behind the glass, that this entire exhibition had a purpose beyond just seemingly senseless pain, allowed her to somehow melt into it. By the fourth stroke, which had become seven due to two exaltations that slipped when the slim object impacted part of her sensitive inner thigh, her head was drooping somewhat. With the switch of sides she renewed her resolve and kept her eyes up, counting out the strokes in time with the practiced rhythm of her teacher/tormentor. She realized that ten lashes probably weren't that many, but for her unpracticed bottom, once she reached the final one at thirteen it might as well have been a hundred.

Andy was held captive by Miranda's eyes, fascinated in spite of herself, by the rhythm of the crop, the supreme control exhibited by her to not cry out, the redness building on the pale skin and the intensity of the intimidating blonde as she moved fluidly through the motions.

When Katrine ended her skillful assault she bent down to check the color of not only Miranda's hands but feet while also, it appeared, checking for warmth. Then without further consideration she began to wield the weapon in a completely different fashion, one that she could tell by the flush of skin across the pale chest was leading to another form of discomfort.

Ass on fire and sagging noticeably, Miranda was quite unprepared for the manner in which the crop was presented next. As her teacher towered over her she trailed the end of the leather tip over the still stinging flesh, creating a tickling burning sensation that made her squirm. Long minutes passed and she found that her entire focus was now on the unpredictable path that the crop would wander, across back, butt, calf, nipple, over and over; searing, teasing, _arousing?_

That she was flushed and suddenly very needful and ready did not fully come to her attention until she felt the tip slide down the inside of her thigh and then back up to nearly the juncture, where the crop teased at her short curls, wet with not only the sweat of her exertion. Her continued assumption of the current position only served to accentuate the desperation and unconsciously her body began a slow rocking as it sought out some relief.

Andy wondered briefly how far this would go; Katrine had not touched Miranda intimately with her own hands as yet and wasn't sure how she felt about it. The earlier flare of jealously had mellowed as she was able to put it into the context of Miranda's gift to her. She was seeing the French woman not as a rival but as a prop in the play; facilitating the drama between her and her lover. Still, she hoped that Miranda had not given permission for their tutor to actually cross that unseen barrier; that the intimate knowledge of the older woman's body was reserved for her alone.

Her deep brown eyes watched the gentle rocking of Miranda's hips indicating a desperation that Andy knew all too well and her own need began to escalate; suddenly this room with the glass wall that allowed the two women the freedom to study and perhaps understand some of what existed between them became a cage and she grew increasingly agitated as Katrine continued to mercilessly tease and taunt.

"How do you think your Ahn-dray-ah is seeing you now? So wet. Tell me slut, will you beg for your relief?"

But Miranda was not quite that far gone and she settled; dredging up a sense of her own pride, not so far buried beneath the sensation.

Katrine regarded the perfectly still form beneath her and Andy noted as her lip curled and she laughed. "Oh you are a prize! But I asked you a question, _**slave**_; will you beg for it now?"

The regal woman, silver hair limp with sweat, challenged with a steady "No mistress."

A large gloved hand languidly trailed its way from rump to hair, then gripped a handful of the damp locks and steadily pulled the willful woman's head up to look her in the eye. "I would have been disappointed if you had said yes." With an exaggerated motion she opened her hand and allowed Miranda's head to drop then stepped away. "Stand."

Miranda took stock of her body and found that from her current position standing wasn't the easiest thing to do. She pushed up with her bound hands, her legs somewhat stiff and wobbly, but was finally able to get herself upright; unable to prevent the flush of embarrassment at the ungainly sight she must have presented. Still, she straightened and stared at the glass; expression inscrutable.

Katrine had moved back to the table and returned to Miranda's side by the time she had straightened. She caught the glint of metal out of the corner of her eye and only managed to partially stifle a slight gasp which brought a devilish smirk to Katrine's face.

"Hold your hands out." The large safety scissors were then brought up to the rope and sliced easily through each strand.

Andy gasped as she saw the red marks on the pale skin, although Miranda did not seem to be troubled by them. She watched as the leather-encased fingers gently rubbed at each for a moment and then let the hands drop where they rested at Miranda's side.

"I think we will approach this from a different way." Black material suddenly appeared in her hand, a long silk scarf, and she wrapped the material three times around the silver head before tying it off in the back.

"Now, place your hands behind your back."

Andy rubbed her own wrists unconsciously, hoping the abused skin would be spared further agitation. She was relieved when a long, black leather strip, about an inch and a half wide was brought around the blindfolded woman's arms, just above the elbows, and buckled into place. When Andy took in the totality of the vision she had to sit back, astonished. Somehow, blindfolded, nearly naked and with her arms restrained Miranda still maintained an air of elegance and dignity that turned her on more than any of the prior activities of the evening. She rose from her seat and walked closer to the wall, hands raised and placed flat on the glass; mesmerized.

Since indicating to her temporary mistress that she would not comply the most powerful woman in the fashion industry had remained silent as she awaited the punishment she was sure was to come. The blindfold was a mixed blessing as it kept her completely unprepared for whatever was next and she found her heart rate increase in anticipation of the unknown. But there was an unintended benefit, now that she was released from the sense of sight she felt closer to Andrea as her ability to visualize her nearness was enhanced considerably. She decided that whatever they did or did not do based upon this experience she was definitely going to be requiring additional Hermes scarves be delivered.

Miranda stood patiently, straining to hear some indication of what would come next but was only met with silence. She had not heard Katrine move away, had she? The darkness surrounded her and her breathing seemed overly loud. The room was neither cool nor warm yet she was still mindful of her exposure. Time passed but she found she was unable to track its quantity.

Andy watched as the two women stood, Miranda's chest rising and falling with each breath. The formidable French woman stood near the table, watching, almost as if waiting for something. It could have been as long as five minutes or as short as two but finally she silently reached for an object on the table and then glided back until she was poised just to Miranda's side. Andy's eyes strained to make out the object; black, about ten inches long, narrower at one end than the other, about the size of a chopstick and then her eyes widened as she realized by the intricately carved flowers in one side that it was exactly that, a black lacquered chopstick.

The first stroke of the pointed implement trailed across Miranda's shoulder and then upper arm and she couldn't suppress the slight jump. It dug slightly into her flesh and she felt as though it was cutting her skin. _Surely she wouldn't?_ She was outraged and had to ruthlessly suppress her body's demand that she move away reminding herself that she had to trust the other woman for they had agreed.

No marks were to be permanent or draw blood.

The slow scoring continued down to the strap at her elbow and then back up the other arm where it withdrew. Again she waited. And then waited some more.

At her neck now, then down the slope of one breast, sliding beneath the ghostly material until a nipple was circled, the sensation increasing with the pebbling of her once again escalating arousal.

Still standing at the glass Andy could clearly see that once again Miranda's body was reacting and licked her lips as she felt herself respond in kind. She shifted, wanting so badly to be the one wielding the instrument, jealousy, now mixed with envy, directed at the woman in leather.

The triad continued the point and counterpoint, dark eyes intently tracking every move the gloved hand made while the blindfolded woman's body strained increasingly outward, attempting to gain knowledge of the unknown implement's next destination.

Andy's eyes moved at one point up the thin stick that was now making a gradual ascent up the smooth, toned thigh of the not quite so composed editor, to the gloved hand, then up to those pale eyes. The concentration leveled at Miranda was intense, as Katrine's eyes moved constantly; observing the nipples hard like rocks, considering each breath, taking measure of the subtle shift of the slightly trembling thighs which Andy knew indicated a growing pool of wetness that would fail to be contained shortly.

The tip of the instrument stopped just at the juncture and then lightly tickled the shorter auburn, gray curls and Miranda, though she bit her lip, could not stifle a low cry of need. Andy swallowed, hard.

The sound propelled Miranda's tormentor back and she discarded the chopstick without care onto the table, selecting another tool quickly, once that caused Andy's eyes to widen. A wooden handle wrapped in woven leather of black and red had wide leather straps also of the same color cascading from the end, almost like a mop. It looked to Andy that it would hurt but when Katrine brought it down upon her lover's chest the reaction indicated it was doing anything but.

Miranda felt Katrine move away and the jittery anticipation of what came next ratcheted to an additional level, sending another round of liquid escaping from her center. She could feel as it slowly began to slide down the inside of her thigh and knew that she was rapidly losing the battle over her body's responses. Indeed she felt an eager excitement wash over her that coalesced into a ball of incendiary need at the first strike of whatever it was that fell upon her ultra-sensitive breasts.

"Ungh!" Split the weighted silence of the room.

Whatever it was, it didn't sting, didn't even really hurt, rather it was heavy and thudded, soft but firm.

"Aaaah!" This time it was the back of her shins. Sometimes dragged as a tickling mass, other times thumping into her. Buttocks, breasts, legs, then back to her breasts creating a delicious rising within her. Her clit was hard and her channel ached to be filled. She needed to be filled, needed to release, badly.

The flogger worked in a random pattern, and occasionally a gloved hand would reach in and pinch a nipple or a bit of skin. The silver head drooped and knees seemed to tremble as her entire body quivered and wavered on the edge. Anticipation and sensation blended together and all thoughts of punishment or artifice evaporated as a single phrase was uttered.

"Andrea, please."

The woman in question felt a nearly frantic compulsion to answer her lover's pleas but was stymied by the separation, unsure of how she could get to where she could answer the call. _Mother fucker!_ She internally hissed; _I need to be in that room!_

At Miranda's desperate request the leather-clad tormentor ceased all activity and returned the flogger to the table.

"Remove your panties." Miranda immediately moved her stance so the thong dropped to the ground where she stepped out of them and nudged them away.

"Kneel. Now."

"Yes, mistress." Miranda, hesitation all but forgotten, heeded the voice of the one who had brought her to this point.

"You want your Andrea, slut?"

"Yes, mistress." Her voice thick with longing.

The strap was removed from her arms and strong hands guided them forward until the forearms were brought together and the leather was then wrapped and buckled once again. "Clasp your hands and lean forward, back straight, present your ass to me."

"Beautiful." This time both leather hands stroked the still reddened behind and then a single finger trailed up the delicate spine, causing a shiver that nearly caused Miranda to collapse.

Andy was so deep in concentration and arousal that she did not realize she was no longer alone in the room until a soft voice brought her head around swiftly.

Madeline stood by the door, discretely keeping her face averted from the tableau behind the glass.

"Come Andrea. Miranda needs you."

Andy turned swiftly on her heel and moved with purpose but before she could pass the other woman held her back with a gentle palm pressed to her sternum and spoke for several moments. Andy trapped her lower lip between her teeth but nodded her understanding and they moved back into the hall until they stood in front of a closed door next to the room she had been in. Silently the door was opened and Andy stepped inside and stood, waiting.

Katrine lifted her head from her admiration of the form below her and regarded the newcomer, a beautiful, slightly nervous looking brunette, who stared intently at the woman on the floor. She held up a hand indicating that she should remain in place and the motion brought forth a tight nod of ascent.

Katrine kneeled in front of the bound woman and lowered her voice, knowing that the newcomer would still be able to hear, as she reached around and tweaked each nipple, hard. "You are so hot and ready; a slut who will do anything for relief, aren't you?"

Sweat was dribbling slowly from the nape of Miranda's neck, tickling behind her ear. Her body thrummed with sensation and, the pulsing of her blood in her veins, the emptiness between her legs, the anticipation at what would be done to her next, all spilled into a whimpering, "Please, Yes."

A tsking from Katrine spurred Miranda to correct herself. "Please, mistress!"

Andy shifted silently, the desperation in her love's voice triggering a full-body shiver as well as the rising nervousness at what she was about to do.

Katrine stood, towering over the vulnerable pale arc of back and stepped away. She indicated with a slight nod that Andy should now move closer while she slightly increased the volume of her voice to cover any hint of the other woman's movement. "Non. No. You have forgotten yourself yet again; this will not go unpunished."

Miranda whimpered but then whispered, "yes, mistress."

Katrine stepped around the kneeling woman and indicated that Andy should take her place behind and to the side of the raised behind. Andy took in every curve, noted the glistening wetness of her lover's center, the flushed skin, the smell of desire and closed her eyes; nervousness subsumed by a powerful need to finish off this scene and take what was so clearly offered. To give what was so clearly needed.

Before she could proceed the gloved hand reached for her own and pointed to the rings adorning her middle and index fingers indicating that they were to be removed. Andy slid them off silently and realizing she had no pockets, tucked them into her bra then looked up at the other woman awaiting her cue.

"You will count for me, five on each side. Are you ready?"

Andy nodded, transfixed, fingers flexing, as Miranda whimpered, "Yes, mistress."

SMACK!

Andy's center reverberated with the blow.

"One."

She had been unsure of the force to put behind the contact and shook her hand slightly at the tingle, then remembered back a month before when Miranda had been bent before her on the dining room table; the force had been similar. She looked up at Katrine who nodded.

SMACK!

"Two." Miranda nearly groaned out the word.

Andy focused intently, ensuring that she struck only at the soft flesh, finding in the concentration a centering point of power, empathy and arousal. It was an odd mix, one that she reminded herself to contemplate later; after.

After the tenth stroke. Katrine nodded again and Andrea allowed her hands to run freely over the abused flesh. Fingers aching to dip into the swollen folds so close now; she gripped the skin beneath and squeezed to resist the temptation before moving them away. The other woman moaned.

Katrine broke the silence that had descended on the room, a small satisfied smile on her lips. "You took that well Miranda." She turned and dipped into a slight bow to Andrea. "It is time you are rewarded."

Miranda's breaths were coming in nearly heaving gasps, and she noted that the clacking of footsteps moved away. What sounded like a door opened and then a latch catching met her ears, yet she knew she wasn't alone. Another's breathing, nearly as labored as her own, was nearby; whoever had delivered her last punishment had not left her side.

She inhaled deeply and her entire body shook, recognizing the scent, a mix of her lover's perfume and arousal.

"Andrea?" She licked parched lips.

"Yes; I'm here."

"I need you." It was a desperate rasping. "Please!"

"Yes, baby; you have me," Andrea whispered and shifted so she was now on her knees straddling Miranda's leg, pushing her center into the reddened backside, moving trembling fingers into the wetness, sliding through, shivering. "Ohhh you are so wet; is this for me?"

"Only you." Her voice trembled and she pushed back trying to increase the contact.

Andrea heeded the desire and pushed two fingers into the heat and let them rest in place, eliciting a long drawn out sigh that turned into a strangled moan and then a harshly bitten "Fuck!" The woman then punctuated her demand with a harsh push backwards that surprised Andrea with its force. "Don't wait!" She bit the words out.

"Just do it, **god**!" The last word was a near scream.

"Damn…It!" A strangled sigh as she pushed back again even harder.

Andrea recovered immediately and swiftly pumped in and out, reaching around with her other hand to find the straining bundle of nerves and in an instant Miranda's body flared and she allowed an uninhibited shriek, as her body shivered and inner muscles clamped fiercely around the fingers that were her salvation.

Then she collapsed, sobbing and Andy followed her, still engulfed in a sympathetic orgasm that did little to extinguish the raging inferno within but shook her entire body none the less, rolling them over so she was on her back and the other woman was in her arms. With a shaky breath she exhaled once and then again, trying to find a place for what she'd just experienced.

Kissing a smooth cheek Andy whispered. "Wow, never in my life…" She kissed the top of her head. "Thank you…that was…" Her voice trailed off for a moment, unsure of exactly what to say but then returned to the fundamental. "I love you." She brushed her lips tenderly over her temple and licked at some of the sweat she found lingering there.

Miranda was completely spent, boneless in Andrea's embrace. Still bound and blindfolded she instinctively curled into Andrea's warmth, drifting. They remained like that for several minutes until Andy took in Miranda's continued confinement. Gently she shifted and moved so the pale body was fully on the mat, removing first the restraint, massaging the skin and muscles of forearms and wrists, the prior binding of the rope still faintly in evidence. Once she was sure that all was well she moved to untie the knot in the silk, unwrapping her like the most precious gift until all that was left were eyes of the clearest blue staring up at her intently.

Miranda reached up then and pushed back several strands of the dark hair that had fallen in front of intense brown eyes, taking measure, looking for clues as to what she was thinking.

"Hey, it's good. I'm good, we're good. You were… are, amazing." Andy could see the relief and moved in for a kiss that reaffirmed and settled something within both.

Looking around they reached a common decision, one that Andy articulated by moving to stand. It was a bit of a struggle in her tight skirt and heels but she finally swung her legs off the mat and managed to stand, reaching down to assist, pulling the other woman up and into her arms. They hugged for a moment and then, spying a silken robe hanging from a hook by the door, Andy strode over and retrieved it then assisted Miranda into it. Andy then gathered up the neat pile of clothes and the elegant pumps, holding out her hand.

"C'mon, there's food and wine in the other room and a couch. It'll be more comfortable there."

Miranda still hadn't found her voice. She was feeling detached from everything around her except for the woman who now held her hand and was leading her into a dimly lit, comfortably appointed space. She found that the grip somehow grounded her, after the intensity of the past hour or so. She had never felt anything like it, the experience swallowing her whole, leaving her mind blanked to all but pure sensation. Returning from that space was proving to be daunting and when she settled next to Andrea on the couch, albeit gingerly, she found that all she wanted to do was be wrapped up by the other woman and feel the solidity of her presence as she found herself again.

Andy was trying not to worry, the editor had yet to speak and Andy didn't force it, unsure of what was happening inside, but given the intensity of what Miranda had just put herself through she intuited much about what she was probably feeling and drew her into an embrace, holding tightly. The ground had tilted for them both in an incredible manner and Andy felt a need for quiet to allow everything to settle back into place.

As they sat Andy looked at the table before her, noting that the previous platter and wine had been removed and several new items sat in their place; a pitcher of ice water, a bottle of white wine whose label was covered by a marble chiller and a platter of fruit, cheese and some sort of rustic crackers. She noted that the low burn of her desire was subsumed by another need as her stomach growled, eliciting a slight snort from the woman in her arms, and she laughed lightly.

Miranda shifted and pulled away, allowing Andy access to the food which, after watching her put away several pieces with one hand, the other still clutching the silk blindfold, she decided looked very tempting and joined her. The ice water was a welcome respite for her dry mouth and when she finally took a sip of the excellent Chardonnay the flavor exploded on her tongue and served to further ground her.

They ate and drank in silence until the platter was nearly empty then sat back, although this time Miranda kept a slight distance. Andy took in the regal features, a good portion of the woman's balance seemed to have been returned by the meal.

"So…" The voice was slightly scratchy and Miranda cleared her throat. "I'm not exactly sure what to say." Miranda found that she was feeling uncharacteristically awkward; she looked down at her fingers and fiddled with the empty spaces on her fingers where her rings usually rested.

A warm hand brushed over her own, grasping it lightly. "That was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I don't think I have any words." She tugged with her teeth at her lip a moment, hesitating to say it but needing to. "Are you alright?"

Miranda smiled slightly, "I am not sure that I'm altogether put back into one piece yet, but yes, I believe that I am." She looked up into a warm, concerned gaze and squeezed the hand in her own. "Oh don't look so worried darling, I'm not made of glass you know, I think _**that**_ was made quite apparent." Remarkably, the older woman found that the pressure of sitting wasn't even that painful; she didn't dwell on what it said about her that she found the sensation slightly arousing although she could feel her face warm slightly.

Andy could not contain her awe any longer as it bubbled up and over her worry; she caressed Miranda with her eyes. "You were amazing. I've never seen anything like it, beautiful, strong… majestic."

"Majestic? Strong?" She practically snorted as she brought a hand up to briefly cover her eyes. When she looked back up she was eyeing Andrea closely. "Certainly you were watching someone else." The tinge of red in her cheeks that had crept in as she contemplated her actions and responses burned brighter.

"Miranda, yes. It takes an enormous amount of strength to be that vulnerable. I don't even know what to say." Tears welled at the rims of her lower lids. "You were beautiful and the way your body responded; it was so, so fucking hot!"

The older woman shook her head but offered no further argument. It had been the most blatantly sexual "thing" that she had ever done and probably one of the most unsettling situations she had ever chosen to place herself in. A glimmer of what felt like triumph rose within and steadied her returning equilibrium enough so when she broke eye contact she was finally able to take in the whole of Andrea in the outfit she had sent her; her mouth watered.

"What _**is**_ hot is you in that skirt." She purred as she raked her eyes up the silk draped over fine hips and ass then further to spy cleavage molded by the wonderful bra. "I do hope you waited until you were in the safety of the club before you decided that most of the buttons on that blouse were optional." She smirked.

Andy settled back into her seat a bit further, relaxing muscles she hadn't realized she had tensed, even as others, much lower, clenched; Miranda was getting her groove back. "Hmm," she tapped a slightly shaking index finger to her lips in contemplation, "maybe that's why Bruce the copy editor tripped into the postage machine and scattered blank meter slips all over the floor."

At Miranda's outraged "humph" and smack to her thigh Andy turned on the wattage, stealing all of the other woman's air from her lungs. "You are the beautiful one," Miranda whispered, "I'm beginning to believe I'd do just about anything for you."

Their kiss then was full and warm, slow and heavy with feeling and when they parted they both felt something once again shift back into place but with a deeper connection and knowing, even as Miranda could sense Andrea's growing restlessness. The low hum of sexual energy that had remained as an undercurrent suddenly flared and Miranda couldn't help but slide her hand up the stocking clad thigh and beneath the skirt that clung to toned muscles.

"What about you Andrea? Are you wet for me now? Did watching me trembling with need for you make you crazy inside?"

"Miranda…" It was a nearly strangled plea one that Miranda toyed with as she traced her index finger along the crease of Andrea's torso and thigh.

"You are such a naughty girl, no underwear?"

"Mmmmm…mmiranda, please."

"Please what darling?"

"Please touch me, I'm dying for it."

"Mmm, yes, I bet you are." She stroked closer to that place of now nearly molten heat; teasing. "Tell me darling, tell me where you want me."

"Inside, please."

Miranda pressed lightly with only one finger and gasped lightly at the intense moisture found there. "Darling, you are practically weeping." She moved her face to nuzzle at Andrea's neck and then licked her way down the exposed sternum as she dragged her hand alongside the now revealed breast, pulling down the thin material covering it.

Andrea squirmed, shifting her hips to increase the contact but found that she was held back by one strong hand as the other withdrew. "No, no. Not yet."

Andy whimpered and Miranda laughed. "So impatient." Any further commentary was left unsaid as Miranda shifted her lips and drew in a taut nipple, sucking strongly, teeth working at the sensitive protuberance as she moved her fingers back into the beckoning warmth. Without warning she pushed inside, drawing out a hissing gasp and began to move in a rhythm mimicked by a strong suckling at the now rock-hard nub. When her thumb applied pressure to Andy's slippery clit Miranda rejoiced in the coiling shiver that was released beneath her as Andrea cried out and her body was sent into a spiraling spasm.

Miranda left her fingers rest inside as she trailed lips and tongue back up the long neck, nuzzling beneath a delicate ear, murmuring nonsense as Andrea returned to her senses.

"Oh dear god woman, what you do to me!" Andy slumped back on the sofa, eyes dropping to the silk blindfold still gripped tightly in her hand, she'd forgotten about it, and then back up at the Mona Lisa-like grin on Miranda's face. "Wow. Just wow."

Miranda merely hummed and then broadened her smile into an unreserved, devilish grin full of warmth and mischief.

They lay draped across the couch for an indeterminate span of time until Miranda pressed one final kiss to Andrea's lips then stood and looked back over her shoulder, some of the _Ice Queen _flavoring her expression. Miranda let the silky robe drop down the length of her body and before heading towards her clothes beckoned in an imperious voice. "Come Andrea; don't make me wait. It's time to go home."

l l l l l l l

They returned to the townhouse around ten to a blanket of quiet; the girls didn't have school the next day and were both staying over at friends. Andy hauled the heavy garment bag, complete with next day's clothes, up the stairs, feet screaming that they had had just about enough of the four inch heels. At the first landing she unbuckled them with one hand, kicked them off, leaving them out of the path of travel, and continued, following the other woman up two more flights.

It didn't take either long to finish their nightly ablutions, Andy dropping her clothes into the laundry where, once clean, they'd join a growing number in one of the nooks in the closet that had been made available for her use, and soon they were wrapped in a cushiony nest of silk, down and one another's arms dropping into immediate deep sleep.

l l l l l l l

Miranda awoke gradually, pulled by a tender nibbling on the back of her neck and shoulder. She stretched and hummed lightly then rolled over and met Andrea's lips in a crushing kiss. The buildup was slow and tender, each reveling in the quiet of the morning, enjoying this rare moment of togetherness before another demanding day pulled them both back into endless deadlines, problems and, most problematic, separation.

Miranda shifted her body until she fully straddled Andrea, fitting their centers together she ground her hips down, joining their wetness into a slippery, achingly sweet slide that built up her need with each thrust. They peaked quickly, one setting off the other and collapsed back into one another, panting.

"I love you Miranda." Andy looked deeply into the barely visible eyes of her lover and kissed her with every ounce of sincerity she possessed.

"Mmmm," She moaned into Andrea's mouth, feeling the emotion within but still unable to fully commit to the words. She knew it was ridiculous but for some reason still she held back, "I don't know why I can't say it yet." she murmured, as close to an acknowledgement of the emotion within as she could get.

But Andy didn't care, she could feel it and as far as she was concerned she could wait; the words unspoken not diminishing the fact of the editor's actions. The younger woman was an observer and met, with a wisdom beyond her years, what for some might be a daunting challenge because she had seen the evidence that she _**was**_ loved; that more than anything allowed her to accept this strange reluctance without insecurity.

It didn't hurt either that she ascribed, with unshakeable optimism, to the axiom: all good things in time.

l l l l l l l


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **This is a very short chapter, intended as a bridge between what may seem to some to be a very anomalous interlude in the lives of these two women and their daily lives. As with all things I strive for integration; we are not merely one or two labels that the world may like to affix to us but complex, oftentimes dichotomous, but ultimately interesting, human beings with a story to tell.

All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers and notes; you consent that you are of age by continuing to read. This chapter rated PG-13.

**Chapter Four**

Andy had chosen her outfit for her Friday at work with special care; black True Religion jeans, black biker style Doc Martens, the ones with a slight wooden heel, and another black blouse, this one of a more pedestrian material which still displayed her assets well, not to mention the sparkling circular cut diamond, simply set, hanging from a palladium chain. The simple and elegant piece had been left on the neat pile of her lingerie that morning to be found after her shower.

She recalled standing in a towel, looking at the beautiful necklace loosely held in her hand, shocked and mildly unsure. It was very expensive as it was probably several carats; an item that could not be purchased by her even if she saved for a year she guessed. An uneasiness had stolen over her, the understanding of their financial inequality which created a sadness within. For Andy, the place of insecurity with Miranda was not words or lack thereof, rather zeroes on bank ledgers. She longed to contribute as an equal and struggled with the understanding that it was not required of her. She just couldn't shake the feeling of not being good enough, that if she didn't pay her own way and accepted favors then she was an opportunist at best, something best left unthought-of at worst.

Miranda had just taken it from her fingers and looped it around her neck, fastening it and turning her for a brief intense kiss then stood back and regarded her in silence. With a simple "Yes" and a nod of her head she then entered her closet and resumed her routine; Andy's "Thank you, it's so beautiful" heartfelt even if still unsure.

She spent a little more time on her make-up than usual as she had the time, Miranda insisted on having Roy drop her at work, a proclamation she did not dispute when she saw the thick snowflakes accumulating on the sidewalk, and left her hair down, relaxed about her face. Nothing about her form was pretentious, nor absurd, just simple, understated, comfortable; Andy.

Now the elevator doors were parting for her and once again Andy shifted her gears and strode out with head held high, unconsciously striding with a bit of a swagger. She met her co-worker's eyes directly with a smile and her usual natural cheer and no one blinked, no one cajoled and no one laughed. If she noticed a bit more formality from a few of them it was actually kind of nice; she was being taken seriously and it felt good.

l l l l l l l

"Hey mom how're you all doing?" Andy was putting in a pair of earrings, getting ready to head out for dinner and a movie with Doug as Miranda was in Boston until Saturday afternoon, and plopped down on her couch, setting the loose piece on the table until she was finished on the phone.

"We've been fine; I haven't heard from you for awhile, with the exception of that brief call telling us of your wonderful news last week, and then after the article came out and I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Andy heard the question in her mother's voice and tried to recall how often since she'd started seeing Miranda that they'd actually had a conversation that lasted longer than a minute or two. She winced; they'd had none. In her desire to not give away too much information and bring questions she wasn't ready to answer she had committed the one sin that destined her to a thorough grilling.

"Work has kept me really busy mom, what with the new responsibility of supplying stories that require more in-depth research and more frequent out of the office interviews, a lot of time after office hours, I just come home and crash on the couch." She crossed her fingers.

"Mmhmm."

_Damn_, Andy knew that tone well, her mother wasn't buying it. But she didn't have to say anything more and finally didn't feel compelled to overshare; if her mother wanted to know she would have to ask.

Louise debated with herself, noting her daughter's reticence, trying not to be hurt by it and decided to try a bit more directly. "So you're seeing someone?"

"Mom!" Andy squeaked, unprepared for the frontal assault, dammit but her mother was good. Of course, she mentally smacked herself on the forehead_, hellooo, lawyer_! She managed not to say anything further.

Lawyer mom then made another stunning leap. "And it's serious."

"Mother!" Andy rolled her eyes, even as she unconsciously rubbed the diamond that hung just below her collarbones between thumb and forefinger.

Louise stopped for a moment, considering. She had intended merely to tease her daughter but had unknowingly tripped into a truth. When next she spoke she was quite serious.

"Andy, you know it's alright, you are my daughter and I love you; I assume the 'whoever' is a woman, correct?"

Andy sighed, "Yes mom." She heard her mother inhaling, signaling another question. "Yes to all three." She hastened to add, "But I don't want dad to know right now, and I'm not ready to talk about it yet, we just met and well…"

"You want to make sure it's the real thing before you put the reality before him, right?"

_No, that's not it at all, it's not just a real thing, it's the __**only**__ thing for the rest of my life if she'll have me_. Andy took a few seconds to consider, deciding it was a good misdirection to employ at the moment; mentioning things about dragons and paparazzi would just create more questions.

"Yeah mom, no sense riling things before their time."

"No matter what Andy, you have my support."

Andy could only hope that fortunes and age differences and the fact of the exact who would not be enough to waive that statement. She sucked in a breath and sighed, "I know mom, thanks, I know you do."

The resignation in her daughter's voice once they hung up was enough to give Louise pause; there was much her baby wasn't saying and she only hoped whatever it was wouldn't hurt her too badly. _Unlike her father,_ she groused, whose stubborn adherence to what she saw as an antiquated set of rules continued to hurt their daughter very badly. Richard's behavior since Andy came out had been pushing her limits of tolerance as her entreaties for acceptance of Andy and her orientation continually were met with a stone-cold indifference. She felt the loss keenly in her daughter's exclusion of her from what she intuited was a very important time in her life; the sadness bringing tears to her dark eyes.

l l l l l l l

It was over coffee the Sunday morning following their trip to The Iris, after the girls had run upstairs to change for their outing to MOMA that Miranda looked up and said. "I don't like the word 'slave'."

Andy had just bitten into her blueberry muffin and it nearly exited out her nostrils. After the coughing went on for a couple minutes she looked up through teary eyes to see a downright wicked look aimed in her direction.

"Ahh, okay. Good… uhm, I didn't, don't, like it either. That's not what this is about for me."

Miranda held her eyes for several moments then silkily uttered, "That's all." The silver headed queen snapped her newspaper and returned to her steaming cup of coffee.

l l l l l l l

Tuesday night after dinner, alone in the upstairs study they were both working at their respective tasks. Andy watched as Miranda sipped lightly from a glass of single malt, considering. "Ravitz? Miranda? Really?" One eyebrow raised.

Miranda nearly choked and it took quite a while for the editor to clear the fumes of the alcohol she inhaled from what surely felt like her frontal cortex but she still managed to dredge up a glare with watery eyes. "I believe the term is… Buzz. Kill."

Andy, who had not been able to prevent the laugh that had erupted at Miranda's unfortunate inhale, howled in mirth. Miranda, now recovered gave her the stink-eye but couldn't help herself and her melodious tones, which quickly devolved into outright belly laughs, set Andrea off once again. Tears streamed from their eyes and one or two snorts had escaped before they were finally able to look at one another without careening back into a fit.

Andy wiped at the corner of her eye, stood and moved towards Miranda, contemplating her for a moment as she sat with The Book upon the small sofa before settling in beside her. "So, are we actually going to talk about it?"

Miranda sniffed and bit off a snappy deflection at the seriousness in Andrea's eyes. "It's not that I don't believe discussion is not needed," she hesitated for a moment, "I've just been at a loss about how to go about it."

"Yeah, you're not the only one. Maybe if we start with a couple of questions I have."

Miranda smiled, nearly certain what the first would be.

"Is Madeline the 'friend' you were referring to when I'd asked about where you'd gotten the key card after our dinner?"

Miranda nodded; correct in her assumption.

"How do you know her?"

"We knew each other in France; she was a seamstress in the same design house in which I was employed, to make ends meet she also worked in a club similar to The Iris. When I needed to get away from Philli…" she looked down for a moment and shook her head slightly "husband number one, she took me in and then assisted in my coming to this country. When she reached the age of thirty a trust fund from her grandmother became available, making Madeline a very wealthy woman. She came to this country shortly thereafter and has been involved in a variety of charitable organizations and business ventures. She opened The Iris about ten years ago as she has interests that run parallel to the club's 'mission'."

Andy reached over as Miranda spoke and had taken her hand, "Wow, what a fascinating woman."

"Madeline is probably one of the few individuals that I would count as a true friend."

"She escorted me downstairs and then when it was time to come in to where you were she explained a few things to me, to help me understand what was going to happen next and what I needed to do. She was very discrete, didn't even look in the direction of the window of the room you were in."

Miranda smiled a genuine smile. "She has always been the soul of discretion, as actually have I when it comes to some of her more interesting experiences."

"From the look on your face I know I'm not getting any more than that but of course you've just made me all sorts of curious."

"Let's just say that the assistance offered over the last twenty-five or so years has not been a one-sided endeavor; Madeline has at times managed to get herself into some situations which required a certain expertise from which to extricate."

"Hmm," Andy found she was a bit nervous about talking directly about the events at _The Iris _so toyed with her words, aiming for a mock-serious silliness. "I am salivating in imagination of exactly what type of influence you were able to exert;" She leaned closer and dragged her index finger lightly along the sensitive skin behind and then below Miranda's ear. "I'm sure you're more than able to mitigate quite a few…'_situations_'." She raised her eyebrows and shot her a goofy grin.

Miranda snorted, "You can be so delightfully eloquent at times my dear…"

Andrea clutched at her chest in mock angst, "Only at times?"

Miranda leaned over suddenly and placed a small kiss on the side of an adorable pout. "Do continue with your inquisition."

Andy laughed for a moment but sobered, kicked her insecurities to the side and decided to just get to the heart of it. "How did it feel?"

Miranda closed her eyes and didn't waste any time analyzing, "Freeing. Arousing. Intense and frightening at times. If I allowed my professional mind to intrude into the moment when something particularly 'difficult' was occurring then it was humiliating; but once I was able to let go of that aspect of myself it became very liberating." Pale lashes darkened with mascara opened, revealing gunmetal gray eyes that took the younger woman's measure.

"How did it feel for you?"

"I was all over the place once I got over my initial shock at what was happening. I mean, it was completely unexpected, outside of my imagination. When she first put her hands on you I almost broke the wineglass I set it down so hard." She released Miranda's hand and put both hands flat on her thighs, smoothing out the denim below chuckling without much humor.

"It's one thing to talk about having someone else be involved in say, _maybe _watching us, but the reality of having another there was definitely harder. But I was able to step back and see that what you were doing was for me, for us, I hope also for you…?" She looked imploringly at Miranda who silently nodded. "…then I was able to see that Katrine was more of a facilitator, not a rival, and it changed for me. I was able to absorb her part in the scene, learn from her manner, poise and intention. She wasn't doing it for cruelty's sake, she was leading you to a place that you had specifically asked to go and that has a lot of responsibility, making sure you were safe and unharmed." Andy drew a pale hand into one of her own; squeezed lightly then held on.

"By the end of it I was so incredibly turned on, you, in that place you were in was making me crazy, the walls were closing in and I wanted with everything to be there for you, to be the one to finish it. I was so relieved to see Madeline and know my wish was to be granted, that it took me several moments to process when she said that Katrine was leading you towards another 'punishment' and that I would be the one to do it. I think things got a little sketchy for a moment there because I forgot to breathe and spots started to form. But when she told me you were relying on me, well," she grinned sheepishly, "you know I always have risen to any task you needed to have completed and this more than any was something I wasn't about to let you down on."

Miranda lifted her free hand and cupped a soft, pale cheek. "You didn't let me down." She hummed lightly and slid closer, placing a kiss on the cheek she had just caressed. "I don't think I've ever been as aroused as I was, it was almost too much, especially when she covered my eyes, the darkness allowed me to focus so much more on the feeling. I think a part of me was able to sense that you were near me, that it was you that last time and that made all the difference in my response, it pushed me over into a place of letting go, knowing it was you who was going to catch me."

Their lips met in a bruising kiss, Andy's hands moving to run through the silver strands, grasping her head and pulling her in tighter even as Miranda mirrored the motion. They parted after long moments, emotions settled by the physical exchange. Miranda placed The Book on the coffee table at her shins and drew the lanky form into her arms, settling farther back into the cushions of the couch. They sat in silence until a faint knocking drew their eyes forward, Miranda issuing a quiet "Come in" to one of her daughters.

Cassidy stepped into the room, taking in the tableau and smiled slightly. "Hey mom, Andy, I was wondering if you had time to talk about Sunday. The play starts at one o'clock and I wanted to know what time you were coming to get me and if we were going to take the subway?"

"I was thinking about maybe getting some brunch or lunch first, maybe at The Eatery?"

"Oh, their Mack n' Jack is the best! Yes! Thanks Andy!"

Caroline had come in at Cassidy's proclamation and plopped down on her mother's desk chair, rocking back and forth with a noticeable scowl. "_**We**_ didn't go out to eat before the concert!"

Andy's eyes, which were not visible to the agitated twin since she was facing the opposite direction, widened in an "oh shit!" kind of a look as Miranda simply smirked at her; she was on her own.

The quick thinking reporter countered, "I have to eat at some point Caro and when we went to the concert, since it was right after work, there hadn't been time. But, maybe, if your mom is available and would enjoy it, why not all four of us go to brunch and then Cass and I will head over to the theatre after." She turned back to the matriarch who now sported a narrow-eyed glare; it was after all the Spring Paris Couture Fashion Week (the key Paris show for American Runway wasn't until early March, the Spring Prêt-à-Porter Paris Fashion Week) and even if she was not in attendance, since Runway France did the honors for this particular show, she still kept tabs via video-conferences, interactive media and numerous meetings with her staff, one of which was Sunday morning at ten.

But Andy wasn't to be deferred. "So go in at nine-thirty, stay for an hour and a half, terrorize your staff into creating the perfect synopsis of what's been seen so far and blow out of there around eleven. Then you can come pick us up and we can be there by eleven-thirty, plenty of time for us to eat and walk over to the theatre."

Andy noted the shocked expressions on all three Priestly faces.

"Andrea…" It was almost a growl.

"Hey, you've gotta eat sometime, right?"

Miranda rolled her eyes, but her pique at being told how to run her shop was morphing into recognition of another opportunity to allow her staff to test their wings. Still, it wouldn't do for Andrea to presume she could interfere with her work. _Would it?_ At one time the answer would have been clear and the take down would have been immediate and ruthless; but really, what had the girl done wrong except desire that she make a little time for her family?

"Mom? Please?" Both girls said in unison.

Grudgingly she nodded her head and the happiness on all three faces, mixed with relief on one in particular, made it worth her while.

l l l l l l l


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers and notes; you consent that you are of age by continuing to read. This chapter rated PG-13.

**Chapter Five**

Wednesday at six-forty found Andy still at her desk; she had just filed her copy on yet another follow-up to the council embezzlement story, this about the changes city leaders were discussing to ensure it would not happen again, and was organizing her schedule for the following day. A clearing throat and a light "Hey Andy, got a minute?" pulled her from her screen and she looked up to see Ronnie leaning his hip against the metal supports of her cube wall.

Her lips formed into a genuine smile, even though they never got past one date the man had been really graceful about it and now was a good work friend. "How's it going? You're here late."

"Yeah, the Knicks are breaking a story soon about the condition of their center's knee and I'm just waiting for the press conference. John's doing the press rush and I'm pulling the photos and rounding everything out."

"Bummer about that, I don't much follow pro basketball but I know enough about it that this'll kill 'em if it's what everyone is thinking."

"So, listen," The tall blond man looked at her, suddenly uncomfortable, "I've overheard a couple of things this last week that I think you should know about."

Andy immediately straightened but managed to keep a fairly neutral expression; it took nearly biting her tongue through but she waited without comment, not wanting to appear too eager or worried.

"Well, first, most everyone has been really cool; no one cares and between your article and that outfit," he looked down at his shows a moment, then back up with a silly grin, "you know it took two days for my shoes to dry, you shoulda been locked up for that getup, it was smokin'!" He chuckled and continued, sobering quickly.

"There's one person in particular, Howard, who's been commenting to whoever will listen about that chunk of glitter you got around your neck and has even gone so far as to speculate on who it was that gave it to you. He also happened to see the chauffeur settle you into that Mercedes last week; he's not particularly happy that you "poached on his territory" with that story you broke either. So, I'm thinking you might just want to consider, if you don't want yourself plastered all over Page Six, how easy it might be for someone such as that to put all the pieces together. You know what I mean?"

Howard Blankenship, had the most seniority of all the reporters and regularly covered the political page; he was a pompous ass with just enough vindictiveness to expend the energy needed to discover the source of Andy's happiness. Unknowingly she pursed her lips, it wouldn't be that hard; while they hadn't been cavorting all over the city they didn't exactly stay in as hermits either. The museum with the family last Sunday was one example, and then of course there were her individual outings with Caroline and soon, Cassidy. Andy closed her eyes, shit, this would torpedo lunch on Sunday. _Dammit all to hell. Asshole._

Andy's eyes gazed silently at the ceiling for a moment, seemingly lost in the pattern in the ancient plaster, then released a huge sigh. "Listen, I appreciate you telling me. Thanks."

Ronnie shot her a brief smile "No problem Andy. Don't let him get to you, he's a..." Before he could finish his pager went off and his face fell. "Shit, the season's down the tubes; gotta go!"

Andy fingered the diamond and watched as he walked quickly back to his desk, dreading the conversation to come. She fired off a quick text for Miranda to call her when she had a chance then turned back to her tasks.

l l l l l l l

Andy's phone didn't ring until a little after ten that night; she was drifting to sleep on the couch while watching a local news magazine when Miranda's distinctive ring startled her into wakefulness.

"Hey."

"Did I wake you?"

"Sort of, just watching TV, I think my eyes have only been closed for a few minutes. How was your day?"

Miranda's eyes drifted over a particularly troublesome layout and pursed her lips. "Surprisingly well, I'm nearly through with The Book, although the spread I just encountered may yet change that." She scribbled a simple "No." on a post-it and placed it in the margins; the entire spread would need to be reworked. "I am now wondering if I need to check our health insurance's vision policy as clearly the individual responsible for this disaster is in need of a new prescription."

Andy laughed and relaxed a little, soothed by the quiet tones.

"And how was your day Andrea?"

"It was alright, I've got an additional follow-up to write and then have a few leads on a couple other happenings, one down at the court-house. Should be interesting."

Miranda noted that beyond the tiredness was a layer of something else. "I'm very glad for you; I know I've already said this but the initiative you've been showing has been impressive; I'm pleased your management is finally seeing the potential in you."

"Thank you. I just wish that others thought so too."

"Oh?"

Andy explained about the conversation with Ronnie. "I'm sorry, I just don't see how we can all go out to brunch now this Sunday."

Miranda could see how she had arrived at the conclusion and considered; would it really matter? "Just because you are seen in public with us doesn't actually prove anything."

Andy's heart picked up a little; she had not expected this at all. "But it will cause talk."

"Perhaps yes; perhaps no."

The reporter's assumptions of what the other woman wanted were obviously off the mark. "Miranda, are you saying that you don't care if people link us together and speculate on our relationship?"

"Yes, I do believe that I am. I really don't want to slink about like we're doing anything wrong because we aren't. But if you're not ready…"

Until this point Andy's worry about the press had been more or less centered on the repercussions to Miranda and the girls, not for herself. "I don't know what to think actually. I don't want to hide either, but I just don't know what to expect and that's daunting. Will it really be so bad?"

"I think it depends upon whether or not someone else farther up the paparazzi food-chain is behaving badly in which case it might not be an all-out feeding frenzy, but still, we could probably count on several weeks of scrutiny and then it would probably just die down. Your face though would be plastered all over, and not just in New York, it could change a lot for you in a very short period of time. If you don't think you're ready, I will not take it as anything other than you not being ready."

"I need to think this over." Suddenly she realized that she hadn't really considered all of the personal ramifications of a public outing and it left her feeling foolish.

"Of course you do."

The younger woman cleared her throat and forged gamely forward. "This 'coming out' thing is so strange, it's like there's layers to it; first myself, then my friends and family and soon the world. I don't really care if anyone associates you with me, I actually feel proud of the fact that I 'bagged _The Dragon_'…"

"Andrea! That was exceedingly crude."

The younger woman laughed, "But it's true, to have people know that the most powerful woman in the fashion and publishing worlds, not to mention beautiful and sexy and brilliant, has chosen to associate intimately with little ole' me is something I'm actually pretty smug about."

"Well I can't say that the smugness is one-sided after all, somehow I've managed to captivate and satisfy a very beautiful woman half my age."

Andy laughed and hummed at the same time as she recalled last Thursday night and then Friday morning, "Definitely satisfied. Oh yeah!"

"You do realize," The editor abandoned the book and removed her glasses, rubbing slightly at the corners of her eyes, mindful of the mascara still present, "that once the press gets a hold of this that much speculation will be made on just that topic and they will not be nice. These bottom feeders are the most vile sort of vicious, they will make your Mr. Blankenship look like a choir boy. When you are thinking, consider that; also, consider that you must be prepared for some interruption in your work routine. Interviews in public places could possibly focus you as the main attention, your interviewees may see you differently, I am not able to guess at all of the ramifications but there will be many. But that is mostly in the short term."

"Short term?"

"A few weeks, a month, two or even three; it really depends. But the worst, with crowds of photographers following our every step, probably a week or two."

Andy rubbed her temples and covered her eyes that were filling with tears; gone was the bravado of moments before; her career was just beginning to pick up speed, what would this do? Frustration and fear of the unknown caused her voice to shake. "Jesus Miranda, you're making it sound like a fucking inquisition! Will we have any warning?"

"Well, firstly I will be contacting Leslie tomorrow, discuss with her what is happening, she will then be prepared and monitor the news sites; with her extensive contacts she will know before something ends up on the front page so we should have about a twelve hour notice before something hits the print media." Miranda sighed.

"Print media, fine, but digital media…"

"Correct Andrea, but even then there will be some time, the major gossip outlets will need more than just a photo to truly extract the story, one photo with a speculating caption won't set off the storm, but one photo and a one or two paragraph collection of all of the loose ends floating around well, that is what we will be watching for."

"I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Trust me when I say this, you are never ready for it; the first time was with my divorce from the girls' father. It was very overwhelming, if you wish to wait, we can wait. We'll have lunch at the townhouse and then you can take Cassidy after. If you are concerned that your co-worker is having you monitored there is a way to access the inner green-space shared by this block and the entrance is on another street so it should throw them off; I'll see that you have a key card as well as a key to the back-door."

Andy while calmed by the measured, even tones of the editor found also that she was rather irritated. "How are you so calm about this? It's like it isn't important to you or something."

Miranda, even though she was unobserved, fought the sudden desire to roll her eyes, honestly that was the one major unavoidable repercussion of being involved with a younger woman, life experience had taught her long before that everything passes and dramatic displays were generally a waste of energy.

"Do not mistake my equanimity with lack of care; I just have an understanding due to experience that allows me to approach this in a different manner. I am not looking forward to the scrutiny, the depths to which some of these people will sink in pursuit of providing fodder to the gorging beast of the public disgusts me; the segment of the public that feels entitled to any part of us disgusts me and I wish there was some way to protect you but ultimately it will be and I will have to deal with it. Therefore, to allow myself to be manipulated by them by dwelling upon the negativity of what could be is something I refuse to do."

Despite being impressed with her lover's approach, Andy's irritation only grew. "So you're saying that I'm being immature about this?" Her voice rose slightly.

Miranda this time could not resist the impulse and flashed her gaze upwards towards the heavens. "No, I am only explaining to you how my life experience has impacted my responses to current events."

"But that still implies that I am somehow not doing the same because of my age."

"Well, of course…"

"Miranda, I'm not a child!"

"I wasn't implying that you are…" The older woman realized that somehow she needed to stop the sudden degeneration of their conversation.

"No, you said it outright."

"Andrea, will you please allow me to finish my sentence?"

"I'm not sure I feel like doing that right now. In fact I feel like having a rather childish hissy fit. Good night." She flicked her finger against the glass, ending the call and burst into tears.

Across Central Park and down about thirty blocks Miranda looked at her phone and tossed it onto the desk, shaking her head. _Sod bloody youth!_ But she supposed this came with the territory; they had been through many emotionally charged experiences since getting together over two months before and growing pains were not unexpected. She could see some of where her younger lover was coming from and understood that right now she was probably working herself into quite the state. A part of her wanted to go to her, hold her, help her understand but there was really only one way for the woman who held her heart to get where she needed to be and that was not by being shielded.

l l l l l l l

They spoke several times over the next few days, Miranda not backing off of her statements hoping that Andrea would finally be able to understand. She had discussed with the girls their change of plans on Sunday and even they had understood; but then they too had been through a press frenzy and weren't eager to repeat it. The girls' reaction is what finally was able to get through to her lover on the subject when they spoke Friday afternoon.

Andy had just finished lunch at the deli down the street, opting to take her laptop and get out of the office for a bit. It was far enough beyond the rush that she was able to sit in a booth in quiet, no one around to overhear, that she decided to bite the bullet and see how the girls had reacted to the news that they weren't going to the restaurant. She'd been beating herself up, feeling like she was letting them down and was hoping they hadn't been too upset. Her dread made her lunch set heavily in her stomach as she hit the speed dial for Miranda's private cell.

She was surprised when Miranda picked up the phone, "You answered!" Miranda's light laugh in response enchanted her.

"Your timing is fortuitous; I just finished a meeting on blocking out the June issue and have a few moments."

"You sound like you're in a good mood."

"Yes, well I am most pleased with the contributions that Emily has been making of late; she is showing more and more that she has what it takes to take over the reins."

Dead silence.

"Andrea? Did we lose our connection?"

"Uhm, no. It's just, well, take over? Are you planning on leaving Runway?"

"It is not something that is imminent and definitely not discussed with anyone save Emily and Nigel…"

"Miranda? How long have you been thinking about this?"

"You are aware that the current pace is unsustainable; it is a matter I've been actively working on since just after we met but the idea of which has been developing for nearly a year now."

"Oh." Andy tried not to feel hurt, really she did, but wasn't particularly successful. Even though she understood that their relationship was still young she still felt like she should have been told sooner. She decided to switch topics as she wasn't ready to deal with this latest reminder of what she felt to be her own inadequacy when dealing with the established businesswoman.

Of course this wasn't much better and she grit her teeth and held her breath, "So, how did the girls take the news that we weren't going out on Sunday?"

"They both were disappointed but were in agreement; until you are ready for the onslaught to begin it is better to not create opportunities for discovery."

Andy's jaw hung low, slightly dizzy, the feeling like she had somehow lost oxygen in her brain. "What? They didn't have a problem?"

"Andrea, this is the crux of what I was trying to say the other night, it is not your age, although we shouldn't pretend that you have had less time on this planet therefore less time to gather experiences than I, but in this instance in particular it's just that you have not been through it before; the girls have and thus know what to expect." She paused a moment waiting for Andy to speak but when nothing was forthcoming, _honestly did I really shock her so terribly?_ She felt it necessary to add more detail.

"They were slightly relieved because it postpones for at least a little while something to which they are resigned to have happen if they wish for you to continue to have a place in our lives, which they most certainly do. They were disappointed that we wouldn't be going out to one of their favorite restaurants, but know we will eventually get there. Is this making sense?"

Andy heard Miranda's words and was gratified to know that the twins had warmed to her enough to care about her even as she noodled over thoughts and actions of the last few days. This matter was so far out of her realm, this becoming a part of the public landscape, that it had knocked her off of her hard-fought-for center.

Realizing that Miranda was still awaiting a response she went with honesty. "Actually very little of this is making much sense to me. I really thought I'd thought this through but I hadn't, not at all. I've been like a Ping-Pong ball about this ever since Wednesday when we talked. I'm sorry I've been so stupid about this."

"No Andrea, never stupid. This is not easy nor is it something for which anyone can ever be prepared."

"I… damn, I don't suppose we can get together before Sunday? I really miss you."

"If only it were possible… but…" She heard the resigned sigh and for what seemed the hundredth time the editor mentally scoured her calendar; nothing had changed, it was packed until late into Saturday evening. Still… "Why don't you come and have dinner with the girls tomorrow night and then plan on staying? I won't be home until about ten, but we could at least sleep in the same bed."

Relieved Andy smiled, "Damn, now that seems so far away, but I'll take what I can get; I'll be there." She started to gather her work and crumpled up the wrappers from her lunch.

"Go on and go back to work darling, I'll talk to you sometime early tomorrow and give you details."

"Alright Miranda, I love you." Andy hung up the phone and shivered despite the heat blasting from the vent above her; she was still uneasy, but less so and determined to buck it up. She stuffed her laptop into its bag, shifting it so it was it rested in the small of her back and clipped it to a buckle on her leather coat so it wouldn't flap when she walked. Depositing her trash into the can by the door she made her way into pale, cold sunlight and headed back to the office.

l l l l l l l

Sunday morning found Andy awakening to the sound of the shower; she looked over at the clock and groaned as it was barely seven. Miranda had arrived the night before well after the anticipated ten o'clock and had fallen into bed and an exhausted sleep; Andy barely cracking an eye open at the disturbance. The simple text informing Andy and the girls of the delay hinted only that whatever it was that kept her away had been bad. Now she was up and moving again, a scant six hours of sleep later, and Andy wondered at the ability at keeping such a demanding pace.

Miranda let the heat of the shower clear away the sleep from her body, she could have used more but there wasn't time. Her mind focused on the events of the day prior, searching for any unforeseen issues she had yet to assign to her task list for consideration.

A labor dispute in Brazil between the mega-printing firm contracted by the majority of the Elias-Clarke publications and their workers was threatening production of the March issues and Miranda was livid. She held a video conference with the company owners, management and lawyers as well as the union representative and an interpreter; what followed was a concise education for all present of the ramifications should a solution not be achieved in an expeditious manner. Once that was complete she set into motion the actions needed to secure a back-up printer, ensuring that at least the flagship publication, Runway, was delivered on time. By the time she had completed the final phone call informing all of the other executive editors of the situation and tasking them with finding their own backups, it was past midnight.

Now it was back to the office for the prior evening's meetings that had been bumped to make room for the Brazil "situation". She had ordered them to be held earlier rather than later as she was determined to be home for brunch; her girls had already been disappointed enough and she wasn't about to add to it.

By the time Miranda emerged from her closet appropriately attired for her day Andy had returned to a deep sleep; she regarded the brunette's blissful repose with a bit of wistfulness, wishing for a moment that she could just crawl back in with her, instead she bent and kissed her temple then turned and left the room.

l l l l l l l

Cassidy and Andy returned from the theater engaged in quiet discussion about one of the projects the girl was recently assigned for school, Cassidy finally having exhausted a continuous recap of the production and cast. Like with the concert Andy had used her press credentials to gain backstage access allowing Cassidy to have her program signed by all of the major cast members, and get several photos with the leads, all without having to wait in the cold at the theatre's back door.

Cass spotted her mother sitting in the downstairs den and ran into the room, eager to regale her with an accounting of her day; Miranda smiled and hugged her, putting a book on what Andy could see was the history of fabric aside, giving her full attention.

Andy leaned over and they kissed briefly before she made her way into the kitchen to retrieve the wine Miranda indicated she had left to breathe on the kitchen island.

It took twenty minutes for the young redhead to wind down and then she gave Andy a brief hug and ran upstairs to find her sister, rewound to recount the entire day once again.

"You are very good with them; have you ever given any thought to having children?"

Andy moved to sit next to Miranda on the couch and shook her head. "I've been so focused on my career and with settling into my sexuality that I haven't really considered it. It's something I guess I figured I'd do at some point, but, I don't know." She looked up at the other woman, curious as to what she thought about it. "What about you, if I suddenly developed an undeniable need to reproduce, would it be something you'd be able to adapt to?" She shook her head at her reluctance to ask the real question. "I mean, would you want more children?"

Miranda took in the sudden nervousness and saw through to the main concern; Andrea did want to have children and was afraid that she would not. She rested a hand on a tense knee and massaged gently, "I would be lying if I said it was something I had thought would be in my future again. After the twins, having them so late in life, I knew that they would be it, my reproductive clock had expired and so it was put out of my thoughts. I think now that things have changed rather spectacularly; if ever the conditions were to present themselves as right I would not be opposed to more children."

Miranda smiled at the visible relief shining out of dark eyes even as she congratulated herself with remaining vague enough. She was hopeful they would progress to a point where their relationship would be one to welcome children but wasn't certain that they would surmount all of the roadblocks yet to be presented as they made their way towards the more solid union other young lives would require.

Andrea leaned over and kissed her and for long moments they reconnected. These were the first moments they'd had alone in nearly a week and took full advantage of it. There was still an hour before dinner and Miranda decided that for what she had in mind a more private location was necessary so broke away from the increasingly passionate exchange and pulled the other woman with her as she stood.

"Come on." Her voice was husky and sent a shiver up Andy's back. "Let's go upstairs for a bit."

Not having to be told twice she followed without dawdling, eager to be back within the other woman's embrace but when they moved into the upstairs study, after Miranda secured the lock, she did not rejoin her but instead moved to her desk and opened a drawer.

The older woman stood with head bent, staring at the box hidden in the shadows, she had had it made with the intention of waiting until Valentine's day but had decided with all of the stress of the past week or so that perhaps Andrea would appreciate the surprise of it now. She scooped it into her hand and stepped over to the couch, settling into the cushions next to the other woman, not noticing in her anticipation of seeing the items against the dark fall of hair, the intent stare which seemed fixated on the box originating from eyes gone slightly hard.

"I was going to wait until Saturday, but…" She trailed off uncharacteristically as she finally noted the shift in the other woman's mood. "What is it?"

"Miranda, these gifts…"

"You don't even know what's in here," she placed it into the soft hands, rubbing the backs gently before letting go, "just look inside."

Andy opened the box, of the same label as the necklace the week before, to see two wide hoops about the size of a nickel, made from the same metal as her necklace, each nestling a row of diamonds on their flattened outer edges. They were exquisite; they were beautiful, Andy knew they'd look perfect. She shut the lid and hung her head.

"Miranda," she whispered, "I can't keep accepting these gifts."

"Whyever not?"

"I can't afford to give you anything that is even an eighth as nice as these!"

"This is not about quid pro quo!"

"I can't take all these expensive gifts! What does that say about me?"

"It says that you are a beautiful woman and your lover wishes to give you items of beauty that she can well afford. Honestly Andrea your pride is nearly that of my last husband's!"

"Don't mention me in the same breath as that asshole!"

"Then stop being so stubborn about this!" Miranda's voice rose ever so slightly and she bit off her next words for a moment in which time the two women glared at one another.

"Andrea, we've touched on this before, I have more money than I know what to do with, my children have all they will ever need, all of my properties are paid for, I donate regularly to a variety of charities and still I have money to literally burn if I so wanted. But what I find right now that I most want is for you to accept that I want to give you things."

"Then give me your heart! I don't want your money; all I want is for you to love me!"

"You have said to me on numerous occasions that you were more than alright with the fact that I've not said those words to you. Are you going back on that now?"

"No! I meant it and still do, but that's what I want, not baubles." Andy shot up from her seat and stalked across the room.

"You are contradicting yourself." Miranda said haughtily from her seat.

"No. I. Am. Not." Frustration was joining the anger already present in her voice.

"You have and worse you are not remotely aware of it. If you would find it within yourself to listen with ears of an adult you'll see that you are behaving like a spoilt brat right now."

"Oh for fuck's sake, you did not just call me a child!" Andy practically yelled and turned so quickly she banged her knee on the desk. "Mother fucker that hurt!" Driven from the sudden bark of pain and caught up in the passion of the moment, she careened headlong into an impetuous moment. She grimaced and spat out harshly. "Look, I realize that you are _commitment phobic_ but buying me _**things**_ isn't…"

"Get out." It was quietly enough said that it cut Andy's rising diatribe off at the knees.

"No. That's not the way to solve a problem."

"Neither is insulting me. I would prefer that you go and think about this, think about what you really want. I am who I am. I care about you more than anyone except my daughters, this is who I am and if you can't truly accept it like you've so passionately tried to convince me, then perhaps it's better that we know sooner rather than later."

Miranda stood quietly and eyed the troubled visage of the still angry woman. "See yourself out please." She turned and left the room, leaving Andy sad, confused and still very angry both with the other woman and herself.

l l l l l l l

Miranda walked up to the third floor, pausing for a moment outside of Caroline's room, listening to their excited chatter.

"I'm glad mom's seeing Andy, she's turned out to be pretty cool." That was her Caro. A wave of sadness engulfed her and she passed by unnoticed, quietly shutting the door to her room. She sat on the side of the bed closest to the door, the same side that Andrea had occupied like a sleeping angel only that morning, and experienced an ache within not grounded in any physical origin. She gathered the pillow up into her arms and squeezed it tight, fighting the rising bile that worked to claw itself from her throat. Iron will or not, her defenses were no longer as strong and a half strangled sob broke free which she stifled by hunching over and pressing her face into the down. That the pillow still had her lover's scent caused the tears to flow even harder.

l l l l l l l

Andy made it home after a particularly uncooperative subway ride. Maintenance at the usual entrance near the townhouse forced her to walk an extra nine blocks in the biting cold; the icy wind seeming an accomplice to the cold steel bands that were wrapping around her heart. Like the snow that began to fall obscuring her vision, her perception of Miranda's motives blinded her to the entirety of what she really knew in her heart to be true. She was just so angry and refused to let it go.

Nearly two hours later, both trains she needed being delayed, she finally unlocked the door to her apartment building, fingers shaking and stiff with cold. Somewhere in the nearly endless journey her anger had transformed into a deep, heaving sadness and she didn't bother to turn on lights instead she made her way into the bedroom, peeling layers as she went, crawled under the covers and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning Andy hauled her sleep deprived body out of bed and listlessly prepared to face her day. That she could hardly look at herself in the mirror was not dwelled upon and she carefully avoided her jewelry box lest the necklace push her barely held control over the edge.

Andy stared into space as she boarded the train barely mindful of those around her on the still sparsely populated car. She nodded to the young woman with the baby who was usually on at this time of the morning and took in the other people she shared her commute with each day as she pulled out her phone to check her calendar.

The stop after hers brought a few more of the regular commuters along with someone new; a young man with longish dark hair and deep set eyes, who appeared to have had a bad case of acne at some point earlier in his life, wearing wrinkled and slightly dirty clothing carrying what appeared to be an empty backpack, which he dropped carelessly at his feet. He struck her as nervous and she noted that his eyes wandered around the car except when the transit cop, Bud, made his way through the train. She nodded a good morning to the tall, burly officer who she had spoken to several times as background for the story she had written back in November, forgetting about the young man and returned to her phone. When movement from the new guy drew her attention back outwards, she noted he only rode the train for a few stops before scooping up his bag and disembarking.

_Whatever_, people were strange, but what she loved about New York was that strangeness was rarely sneered upon, unlike the city of her origin, and she was glad once again that she had had the courage to follow her dreams, even if right now they felt like they were all crashing around her.

l l l l l l l

Mid-day on Monday found Emily hastening into Nigel's office after a particularly brutal run-through that saw everyone in the room that had survived with their jobs, Jocelyn's assistant being the unlucky sacrifice, scurry faster than she'd ever witnessed, herself included.

"Bloody fucking hell, what crawled up her…"

Nigel held up a hand. "Don't say it. I know, I've only seen her that bad once before and it's been ten years since."

Emily's curiosity was piqued, "And what pray-tell was the impetus for that harrowing display?"

Nigel figured it wasn't telling tales behind his friend's back if the event in question were public knowledge. "Jeremy, her husband at the time, was busted in all of his grainy black and white glory, in a not so secluded glen in Central Park by Page Six while under the oral ministrations of his secretary."

Emily was aghast, her voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "Oh…my…oh…my…Jesus Christ how humiliating for her!"

"Yes well, especially since the supposedly happy family had just had a very public celebration of the twins second birthday."

Emily pondered the pain that the regal woman must have endured in the face of that revelation while Nigel stewed silently, wondering what the hell had happened with Andy because he knew that the only thing that could get to _The Dragon_ in just this fashion was an aching heart.

As Emily put together the pieces he held up his hand in what had become a very recognizable sign and she sighed, "Bloody right, don't ask." It was now confirmed for her that the source of her boss' recent joys and today's heartache indicated that the woman was definitely seeing someone, that that someone was a very important someone and that she would hunt whoever it was down and kill them if they didn't fix it and fix it soon.

l l l l l l l

By Monday at lunch the full impact of Andy's words and actions the day prior had finally sunk in and the reporter knew that she needed to make some type of amends; it was the how that was confounding her. She felt that she couldn't just call her, that it wouldn't be enough, so she spent another couple of hours tormenting herself while trying to think of something, anything, that would mend that which she had so thoughtlessly sundered. She knew that there were issues they would have to address but the way she had gone about it was completely unacceptable, and she grudgingly admitted to herself, immature.

A message received later in the afternoon had the reporter grabbing her coat and bags and flying out of the newsroom like her ass was on fire. If she hurried she now had the perfect solution.

"So there's no way to have it delivered tonight?" Andy hated when people whined and tried to even the rising tone of her voice.

"I'm sorry miss, the best I can do is tomorrow afternoon. We still have to put the finishing touches on it but did as you requested and called you in to ensure it was as you wanted."

Andy nearly growled but accepted his words. She wanted it to be perfect and perfect wouldn't be achieved without the engraving on the back so she made the final payment and gave him the townhouse address, swearing him to silence with an additional fifty. It wasn't much but she hoped he'd value her potential future business enough to not call Page Six once his shop door closed behind her.

l l l l l l l

After another crummy night of sleep Andy once again made her way towards her usual seat, phone at the ready as she flipped through to her calendar. She smiled again, a bit brighter than the morning before, at the young woman with the baby, this time the two were accompanied by a three or maybe four year old boy with dark curly hair and cappuccino skin a shade darker than his mother's, at her side. She turned up the wattage and the tyke buried his head in his mother's side while he clutched a large battered Spiderman action figure in his hand.

His mom just smiled back at Andy, "he's only shy around beautiful women" and Andy had to laugh even as she felt her skin heat.

She stretched her legs to settle her jeans in a more comfortable position and her smile lessened as she looked again at the red Doc Marten's that the twins had gifted her at the holiday. _Please._ A single invocation aimed towards whoever listened in the universe that she hadn't completely fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to her.

The subway finally began moving and at the next stop her attention was brought from her phone yet again by the same young man as the day before. She noted that today his clothes were clean and neatly pressed and that his bag appeared to be much heavier, bulging slightly at the sides, which he gingerly placed between his legs under the seat. He looked at his watch several times before the train finally began to move again and she pretended to look at her phone, a niggling something inside telling her she needed to pay attention.

The train was nearly full when two stops before Columbus Circle the young man got up and headed towards the door, without his backpack. Andy had still been watching him, even going so far as to surreptitiously snap his picture because she suspected that maybe he had stolen something and it would prove to be useful. But she doubted this conclusion when he got up without his burden, a thief wouldn't forget what he'd just stolen. She caught his attention and told him helpfully that he'd forgotten his pack but instead of a grateful "thank you" she received a glare and the man turned, picked it up and moved to the next car.

Suddenly pieces started to fall together for the reporter but her conclusion was so surreal that she couldn't find in in herself to truly believe it. Andy's hands began to shake slightly and her mind blanked for all of a few seconds but it was enough time for the train to begin moving again, due to make the next station in only minutes. She stood, acting as though her stop was next and positioned herself so she could just make out where the young man stood in the next car. When they arrived in the station she watched through the windows as he disappeared into the crowd, without the backpack.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Her mind raced and she looked around her, debating whether or not she should get off the train and find a cop, but she worried that there wasn't enough time so she moved back away from the door, checked that her laptop was securely wrapped around her shoulder, behind her back and clipped so it wouldn't get in the way, then moved towards the direction of Bud (which took her into the car with the pack) or the conductor; whoever she found first would do.

As it turned out it was Bud and she watched as he paled at her description of what she'd seen, then barked into his radio. Nearly immediately the train came to a halt, even while she was listening to him explain what was happening to whoever was on the other end she mentally reviewed their position. They had to be nearly to Columbus Circle and, if she recalled correctly, in an area that had at least four lanes of tracks running parallel to one another. Then she looked up into the worried green eyes and heard herself saying, "Tell me what to do, I'll help!"

He pointed in the direction that the other riders would need to go in order to head towards the nearest exit; they couldn't safely disperse into the tunnels without guidance, it was too dangerous as there were many hazards and they didn't want anyone harmed if it turned out to be just a bunch of rocks in the bag.

"Get 'em out of here; follow the track closest to the wall on this side and get as far away from here as possible. There's an access door that should have a light over it."

The lights flipped to emergency back-up and Andy breathed a sigh of relief that at least the electric rail was no longer one of those hazards. A steady voice over the intercom calmly gave instructions to evacuate and to move away from the train once the doors were opened; the people around her weren't quite panicking but there was an air of fear that made movements appear choppier and voices more shrill.

Andy found that now that she had a goal, her focus returned and nerves moved to somewhere deep inside. She was relieved to find that people were heeding the instructions and spied an elderly couple in the next to last car who were having difficulty exiting.

"Hey!" she shouted down to what looked like was a tall, sinewy, teenager in a crisp Yankees cap and baggie jeans who was already on the tracks, "can you give us a hand here?"

The kid nodded and stood below the door while Andy turned first to a slightly hunched, slender woman with a cane. "I don't know if I can do this!" She was distressed, looking fearfully at the five foot drop.

Andy made sure to inject as much confidence and soothing in her voice as possible. "Sure you can, we're going to help you. Just hold onto the handle there and swing yourself backwards, the kid," She looked at the dark skinned youth, "what's your name?"

"Jerome."

"Jerome will grab your waist and guide you down."

It took some doing but finally there was a sigh of relief from the pale skinned woman with the bright red hair. The woman's husband took no time at all; just needing hands to guide him and Jerome then led both of them, one on either arm, away from the train.

Andy took one more look and dropped down to track level and started making her way out when shouting behind her grabbed her attention.

Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, the emergency lighting of the cars cast a soft glow outwards, and it allowed her to see movement back towards the third car from the end, it was the young woman with the baby and she was struggling to get her son to move with her as he was apparently having some sort of tantrum; screaming that he wanted his Spiderman.

For what felt like the three hundredth time that morning Andy let out an enthusiastic "Fuck!" and ran towards the woman and child. She arrived at just about the same time as Bud, who had come from the opposite direction, flashlight bobbing up and down as he ran.

He yelled "It's starting to smoke! Get the hell outta here!"

She scooped up the struggling boy and held him tight to her chest. The cop then shielded the woman and infant, half carrying them away from the train. Andy followed, lagging slightly behind because the boy just wouldn't cooperate.

She had to set him down twice, until finally she hauled him up like a sack of potatoes and threw him over her shoulder. He wailed and struggled harder; patience at an end she finally snapped loudly, hoping his mother was beyond hearing range, "Godammit! Stop fucking moving!"

_Way to win points towards motherhood_ Andy chided herself as he finally listened and she was able to pick up the pace. They were now at the last car and it was just another car length to the point where the tunnel curved slightly; it would provide some protection, if only she could just go faster. But it was now nearly completely dark, her boots were slipping in muddy water and she kept tripping over the ties, the boy, who had slipped down again and was cradled flat against her chest was now completely still in her arms, when she looked down he was gazing up at her as if transfixed; she calmed her voice although the exertion made it sound like she was gritting out the words.

"Good job kiddo, you're doing great, we're almost there."

She could see Bud starting to come for her, the boy's mother safely deposited around the bend she presumed, but she called him off, "I'm almost there; it's cool!" He still came forward and pointed the flashlight at the ground to give her some light; now she was able to move faster.

_Just a little bit more_… She shifted the heavy bundle in her arms again so he was nearly over her shoulder but he kept slipping down, her arms getting tired and muscles burning. She followed the light, grateful for its presence. "Thanks Bud! Makes all the differ…"

But her words were ripped away in a concussive outrush of air, heat, screams and debris. The massive force shoved Andy forward and her last waking act, even as she was aware of losing all the breath from her lungs and a stinging over what felt like every muscle and sinew, was to roll her body over the smaller one beneath her keeping him shielded from the massive wave of scouring dust, glass and twisted metal. Her final thought was nothing particularly noble, a nearly detached acknowledgement that she was well and truly fucked; and a sadness that her last words to the woman who meant everything to her were spat in anger.

_What a fucking waste. _

l l l l l l l


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I'm posting this without waiting mainly because I truly hate cliffhangers and I don't really want to do that to you all! All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers and notes; you consent that you are of age by continuing to read. This chapter rated PG-13.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

At a few minutes before eight Miranda was exiting her car when a jolting in the ground beneath her nearly caused her to stumble. Roy reached out a steadying arm and she smirked slightly, until a sudden paralyzing fear rushed from head to toe transforming her lips into a grim line. The feeling disappeared almost as quickly as it had arisen and as she took in the details of her surroundings, noting the dust rising from the subway vents, she hastened into the building, issuing a terse command for Roy to move the car to the back loading dock in order that he could remain available but would not impede the passage of any emergency personnel. She didn't know the where of it but she recognized the what, an old memory from a long ago event in her native London mixing with remembrances of that day in September nearly eight years prior; somewhere, three days before the start of New York Fashion Week, and probably nearer than farther, a bomb had exploded.

The ruling queen of the fashion world made her way up her usual elevator, mind already composing a list that would allow her to quickly assess the location, extent of damage, cause and then the city's response and recovery. She was not unmoved by thoughts of the toll that could have been taken on those unfortunate enough to be caught in its path but she could do no good for them now and had to focus on the ramifications the blast would have upon an event for which her company was one of the key sponsors.

In 2001 the attacks on September 11th came in the middle of the Fall Fashion Week, cancelling the remaining shows and with it the dreams of many young designers and lesser-established fashion houses. Until she knew the scope, everything was now up in the air. She shot a plea to the universe that this event was not of the same magnitude, that her adopted country and beloved industry would not endure another blow as severe as that delivered before.

l l l l l l l

A constant whimper, searing pain, what sounded like crying but muffled, distant, filtered through the jumbled aching that was Andy's struggling rise to consciousness. She might have spoken but she didn't think so, the sound was more a strangled gasp for air as the up and down rhythm of her breathing seemed to be nearly impossible to maintain. Liquid tracked through the heavy dust that coated her face, physical anguish discharging in the salt of tears. It was so hard to think, to understand why she was like this and then the fear settled in and she burrowed into a hazy place that was quieter, hoping for the touch of the one person who could make it all better.

_Miranda._

"Andy!"

_Huh? That wasn't Miranda's voice. _

"Andy!" This time the baritone voice ripped through her head like a knife and she hissed.

"Oh thank God! Andy, hang on, we're gonna get you guys outta here, it's just going to take a bit, don't leave, whatever you do, stay with us, it'll be okay!"

l l l l l l l

Miranda sat at the head of the table of the conference room but all eyes were riveted on the wall-mounted flat screen flashing images of screaming emergency vehicles and soot covered commuters emerging from Columbus Circle Station while others streamed out of a one story building with a blank façade; one of the many access points to the underground world perfunctorily disguised to look at first glance like any other building. That the window-dressing fooled no one was one of the city's running jokes.

"Again, eyewitnesses have confirmed that there was a bomb that exploded on the Broadway line at seven-fifty-six this morning, just north of Columbus Circle Station. A tip was received by transit authorities and the train was stopped and evacuated before the bomb went off. No word yet on casualties but there are reports of several people trapped; emergency personnel are on the scene and working to dig through a collapsed ceiling where as many as ten people may be trapped.

No one has claimed responsibility for the blast but there were reports of a suspicious male carrying a red backpack seen in the vicinity shortly before the explosion."

Miranda clicked the mute button but allowed the video to continue and all eyes turned towards her. "I have been in contact with the mayor's office and it is too soon for us to know what the full ramifications of this attack will be; so far it appears that it is an isolated incident. As you all know the entire city transit system is currently shut down and we'll need to address the needs of Elias-Clarke personnel who managed to make it into work this morning as there is a good chance they will not be able to go home tonight."

She turned her laser gaze first to the human resources director. "Find out how many staff members are in the building and in need of a place to stay." Next was the building facilities manager. "Get with the HR director for that number; I want you to handle this, arrange for cots, blankets, pillows, whatever will be needed."

And so it went down the line, arranging first for the safety and provision of resources to personnel, then the seeking, verification and reporting of any data that would allow them to form a plan. As it was, with the airports currently closed it was going to greatly impact Day 1 of Fashion Week; she would need to make a decision soon about a recommendation to the event's board, of which she was a member, whether to cancel it entirely or strip it down to its bare necessity; registration, transportation and lodging of designers, sponsors, models, attendees and the broad scope of support staff from laborers to catering, unions to security.

With staff assigned and sent out to accomplish their tasks Miranda turned her attention back to the screen, the same information crawling along the bottom, mind working at the details she was missing, stomach uncharacteristically unsettled as though something of great import was being left undone.

She had already spoken to her girls, indeed she was texting them before she had left the elevator earlier that morning, not even bothering with the voice lines knowing they would have been overwhelmed and a futile endeavor. They were, she glanced at the digital readout on the wall, it was now just after twelve-thirty, safely ensconced in the townhouse, their driver able to retrieve them upon their release at noon.

She had thought earlier about placing a text to Andrea but had hesitated, unsure of the response, but as the morning wore on the pit of worry increased and she decided that no matter what, at least the girl would know that she cared. When twenty minutes passed with no response she wasn't sure if she should be angry or terrified and sent another, more urgent message, demanding that even if she never wanted to speak to her again that she at least confirm that she was safe.

The odds that Andrea would have been involved were higher than a random event as the editor knew that that was the reporter's train; she took it every day and around that time.

But that way laid madness.

She tried to let the fear go but it stayed wrapped around her like a corset, squeezing rationality out and trapping the images that she could not quite wrap her mind around. Her beautiful Andrea, who would never intentionally cause physical harm to another soul, caught up in so blatant of an act of treachery; trapped, injured, or...

Unthinkable.

Inconceivable.

Hopefully impossible.

l l l l l l l

It was now nearly five hours since the blast and Bud knew that if they didn't get to them soon the woman lying on the filthy ground wouldn't make it. The little boy, Joshua, seemed to be in fairly good shape and was curled up, asleep, at the injured woman's side. For someone who caused so much trouble by trying to get away in the first place the little boy had been vocally adamant that he not be separated from the woman who had spent most of the past hours unconscious.

The sensible cop had considered the situation and decided that the boy's body heat would only help. He had explained to the kid the importance of being really quiet and still, that he not push against the woman who had moments of confused consciousness and outright delirium, so as not to hurt her further, then had pulled his XXL quilted jacket down from where it had been covering the reporter's slender form, enough to cushion the rough edges of the ground while still offering Andy some warmth, making a place for the boy to lay along the injured woman's side.

He had had plenty of time to think, review the events that led them to this darkened limbo. How he had managed to get to them was unknown, the force of the concussive blast had sent him painfully on his ass but he had popped up immediately, unmindful of a sharp pain in his ankle, and run without thinking, shouting over his shoulder as the tunnel creaked all around, ordering another passenger still in the vicinity to restrain the boy's desperate mother to keep her from endangering herself and infant, back to the place he had last seen the reporter and boy. He had just made it to their side when a loud rumble filled the space and a massive wall of debris collapsed between them and the exit.

He had expected to see the worst but the large eyes of the boy peeked out from under a still partially hunched body and a curtain of dusty gray hair, shock sending the boy's body into a wild tremble as silent tears washed down his face. Bud sucked in his bottom lip as he felt for a pulse along the soft skin of the long neck and thanked his god that she was still alive, although unconscious, arms still cradling her charge protectively.

The transit cop had moved quickly in those early moments, uncurling the woman's form, releasing the child who howled as soon as he was removed from her grasp; he appeared to be relatively unharmed, a miracle, and muttered another quick prayer of thanks.

Returning to the woman who took the brunt of the impact he winced at the bruise forming on the woman's right forehead, the curving gash that traveled from mid-cheek to her jawline. Her torso was well protected by a heavy leather jacket that he left on her for warmth although by the labored breathing he knew he would have to check her ribs.

He had continued his initial assessment, observing that a large flat, square bag that probably housed a laptop was still strapped to her lower back and stared slack-jawed at the large piece of metal protruding from its shredded material. He had then quickly released the clip that kept it secure to her coat, relieved that it had not broken through to the other side, a killing or paralyzing blow averted.

His hands trembled slightly then as they continued a gentle probing, feeling for tears in fabric that were numerous on her legs but small, all except for her upper left thigh where his hand came back sticky, thickly coated with her blood; another jagged piece of metal, this smaller than that embedded in the bag.

He took the measure of the placement and assured that it was not at or near the artery, if it had been she would have been gone already, and concluded that she couldn't stay on her stomach, due to the breathing problems. So, after figuring the angle of entry with the help of the flashlight he decided it was better to remove it and pack the wound. The boy had been sitting quietly as close to the pair as possible. Gently he had looked at him.

"Hey, I need to help Andy here; did you know her name is Andy?"

The boy shook his head no.

"What's your name?"

After a brief moment came a small trembling utterance, "Josh-ew-ah".

"Okay Joshua, my name is Bud and we need to help Andy. Andy was really brave and I need you to be really brave so Andy doesn't hurt anymore. Will you help me?"

This time the nod was a yes and Bud chuckled lightly.

"Okay, Josh, can I call you Josh?"

The boy nodded.

"I want you to hold the flashlight right here. I'm going to pull this piece of metal out of Andy's leg and it's gonna get messy. They'll be blood for a minute but I'm gonna stop it okay? Will you be brave and be alright?"

Joshua sniffled but nodded his head, eyes still wide. "Okay, remember lots of blood but it's okay, but we need light so hold it steady."

And then Bud had pushed down on the skin around the wound at the same time as he pulled at the metal shard. It did not catch as badly as he feared but as expected a gush of coppery liquid followed. The burly cop was ready, having already torn most of his undershirt into rags and strips and he pressed on the wound for long minutes until finally the bleeding slowed to a trickling seep, topped it with more rags, then tied it off with the strips.

His hands were a mix of sooty gray dust and blood and as he wiped them on his pants, he could only think that his wife was going to yell at him for it.

"Hey Josh, you did great! Thanks kiddo…"

"Andy called me kiddo."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, when we were running, said she'd take me to my mommy. Where's my mommy?" The lower lip was beginning to tremble and Bud knew he had only seconds to intervene or a meltdown was imminent.

"She's safe. She's waiting for you but we need to wait for the firefighters to get us out of here, you can do that right?"

Another silent nod.

Bud used the return to silence to turn the woman who was now passing back in and out of consciousness, into a more comfortable position. He removed the laptop bag and used it, along with one of the rails, to elevate her feet and a scarf that had been wound around her neck was used to cushion her head.

He performed the same search over her front, mindful of her privacy, and winced at a large field of bruising that was blooming in a nasty riot of purple over her rib cage, confirming cracked ribs. All he could do now was keep her as still as possible and hope that it wouldn't take long to get to them.

He was thankful his radio still worked and that there were others on the other side that knew their position and condition; they informed the eight year veteran that the space where the train had been was impassable, effectively trapping them, but that crews were already in place to begin the delicate and laborious process of digging through the mass of concrete and rebar.

He clicked the radio off and stood, wheezing out a "Mother fucking goddamned son of a bitch!" that ended in a loud, hacking cough.

"Andy said fuck too."

The small voice stopped him in his tracks. _Shit, forgot about him._

"She yelled at me to stop moving, said uhm, 'fuck' when we were running."

"Unhuh. Well, you did right?"

"Yeah."

"So, good listening. You did the right thing, and that's what you're gonna do here, right? You've been really brave so far and I need you to stay as close to Andy as you can so she'll be safe, okay?"

Then it was just about waiting. He had passed the time by telling the boy stories and checking that Andy's vitals were still stable. If it wasn't for this woman untold numbers would have been dead or maimed; her intelligence and bravery had saved many; including himself.

Back in the present now he flicked his flashlight on, checking once again the woman's pupils, they were reactive but one was slower than the other; her chest continued to rise and fall with difficulty; but she was still breathing.

He was about to turn off the lamp to save its battery when he was caught by the simple grace of the boy curled next to the damaged body who was even more beautiful in this moment and on a whim, pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. He didn't question the why of the action but he felt it right; a tiny hand curled around one much larger, a lifeline of sorts for a battered soul.

The sounds of heavy machinery and voices were now much closer and he hoped that soon they'd all be free of this cold, damp and wrecked prison. He reassured his charge when she whimpered at pains he was sure he had not been able to identify along with those he had, then prayed for all he was worth that they'd hurry the hell up.

l l l l l l l

By one o'clock, with still no word from Andrea, Miranda called The Mirror. To say that Greg Hill was shocked that Miranda Priestly was inquiring about Andy Sachs was an understatement but after informing her that, no they'd not heard from her and yes they were concerned and yes they would call immediately if they heard anything, he found that he really wasn't all that surprised; it actually made sense in a way that many others would not have.

After hanging up and a few moments thought, once the truth of it settled along with his growing worry for the young reporter's safety, he suddenly found that his daily preventative anti-acid was failing miserably; Sachs had melted _The Ice Queen_ and whenever it became public it was going to be the storm of the century, with his newsroom in the eye.

l l l l l l l

It was finally twenty minutes past one when a hole big enough to push a back board carrying a human being was finally able to get through the wall of debris. Andy was hooked to an IV to provide needed fluids and then strapped in and hauled out; a blanket covered nearly all of her and the ambulance was pulled directly to the access point's doorway, shielding her from both a blustery squall of large fluffy snowflakes and the wall of press clamoring to discover the identity of the woman now known as the "Angel of the Broadway Line".

l l l l l l l

Bud couldn't remember the reporter's last name and decided that perhaps not mentioning it immediately would be best; sure that the girl had family and that hearing about her injuries on CNN wouldn't be in her best interest. Besides, his broken ankle was hurting like a bitch and the shot they'd given him caused his mind to drift pleasantly. The woman over whom he had watched the past half day and who had saved his life was surrounded by doctors and would get whatever she needed, that's all he cared about he thought as he stopped fighting the fog and succumbed to a healing sleep.

l l l l l l l

The Level One Trauma Center at St. Luke's Hospital was only minutes away from the exit point that Andy was taken through. Immediately she was assessed for the usual traumas associated with an improvised explosive device (IED) that had utilized a high order explosive yet to be specifically identified.

All clothing and her boots were cut away, a tube was inserted to facilitate breathing and she was hooked up to a variety of machines measuring everything from heart rate, brain activity and the degree at which her blood was delivering oxygen. While others worked to assess damage elsewhere one nurse was tasked with gently wiping away the soot, grime and blood mixed with earlier shed tears that had streaked and hidden what was being revealed as a lovely face, although still distorted, the swelling around her wound and on her forehead something that only time and anti-inflammatories would banish.

A neat pile of her belongings, including what remained of her clothing and boots, a battered laptop bag with the large hunk of metal embedded in it and her iPhone, seemingly intact save for a hairline crack in the glass, were placed in a sealed plastic bag, as they contained evidence from what was now a crime scene. Her ID and the card that held the names of her medical power of attorney rested on the top of the bag, awaiting one of the hospital social workers to come and gather them so they could make the necessary calls.

l l l l l l l

It wasn't until nearly five o'clock in the afternoon when Doug practically stumbled into his apartment a good ten or so blocks south of Andy's place. He had been on the A train, somewhere under the West Village and on his way into work when the train simply stopped and remained for hours, all aboard unknowing of the drama unfolding uptown. Cell service was non-existent for all, especially for him, as he was planning on charging it when he got to his office; it had died somewhere in the second hour as he was turning it on intermittently, playing a video game, just for something to do.

They finally were led out of the tunnels around noon and, after borrowing someone else's phone and calling work, was told to go home. That was five hours earlier; it took him that long to make his way back up Amsterdam Avenue to the apartment he shared with a co-worker, on 102nd street. He had tried to find a another way up, but no cabs were available so he'd walked, stopping along the way for a late lunch that consisted of several shots of tequila to numb his aching feet and warm up from the intermittent snowfall.

He plugged his phone in, turned on the wall-mounted TV and with much relief kicked off his black dress shoes, ditched his work clothes and shrugged into a comfy pair of ripped jeans and a faded black turtleneck. He was heading into the kitchen, barefoot, to find some food when he noted he had a number of missed calls and several messages.

He flipped it on speaker while he pulled a beer out of the fridge and wrinkled his nose at his lack of food options.

"_Hey Doug; Lily. It's about nine o'clock and I was finally able to get through, the lines have been jammed. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I can't get a hold of Andy either so if you should get this and then hear from her, shoot me a text. K? Bye."_

Next.

"_Douglas, not sure where exactly you are but we are closing the office today so don't bother coming in. If the transit system is still down tomorrow plan on a work from home day." _

His boss then outlined the contents of several emails she had sent and the call ended.

He was plopping down onto the couch catching something scrolling across the bottom of the screen referring to the "Angel of the Broadway Line" when the next message, identified as being sent nearly two and a half hours prior, sent his back up straight and his skin to pale into a deathly white.

"This call is for Douglas Warner. St. Luke's Hospital calling concerning Andrea Sachs. My name is Mrs. Palteroy and I am a social worker for the hospital. Ms. Sachs was brought to us after being injured in this morning's explosion; she is alive but will likely be going into surgery fairly soon. As you are her medical power attorney we will need to speak to you as soon as possible, please call…"

Doug stopped listening, shock and disbelief forcing him to listen to the message two additional times, the first just to ensure it was real and the second to allow him to write down all of the pertinent information. He swallowed his beer, ignored the additional messages that he saw were from Lily, laced up his black, lug soled Doc Marten's, and grabbed his coat, a Chicago Bears stocking cap and a warmer pair of gloves. Before he reached the door he stopped and considered, knowing his phone had not had enough time to charge, so took a few moments, gathered up his laptop, throwing in the USB phone charger, plugged in and called Lily while clomping down the stairs.

She answered on the first ring. "Lily, thank god! Did you…"

"Doug! Did they call you about Andy?"

"Yeah, I'm heading down their now. Where are you?"

"I was stuck on the 5 train near the Botanic Gardens for something like four hours earlier today so when I got the call I was nearly to my apartment but I've finally managed to get onto Manhattan and am hopeful that I'll be able to hitch a ride uptown, otherwise it's going to be another long damn walk."

"Yeah, I think that's what I'll end up having to do. Listen, did you call her parents?"

"I didn't really want to until we knew her condition but I had to when they wouldn't give me any more detail without me being there in person, I mean, _what the fuck!_ But yeah, they're trying to get a flight out tonight and will call me when they've got one."

"What about Miranda?"

Lily rolled her eyes but admitted. "I don't have a clue how to get a hold of her. I couldn't get through the secretary even when I said it was an emergency. I tried twice, hoping to get somebody else who would listen but no luck. Hey, Doug! Wait a minute…"

He could hear her talking to someone in the background then the slamming of what sounded like a car door, when she came back on the line she was practically vibrating with excitement. "I found a ride; he'll take me all the way up to the hospital even though he lives on the Upper East Side."

_Upper East Side?_ An idea began to form. He didn't have Miranda's phone number but he did have her address as he was going to be joining them for dinner the following week.

"Lils, wait! You said the guy was lived on the east side? Listen, Miranda needs to know what's going on, I have her address, can you get him to drop you there?"

After another side conversation Lily got back on the line, she really wanted to be at the hospital with Andy but would soon enough she supposed. Doug was right, Andy would want her to do this.

l l l l l l l

Miranda paced the den next to the kitchen, having come home because the world seemed to be going to hell around them; unexploded bombs having been found in a public restroom at Grand Central and in a car off Times Square, near one of the subway entrances. She needed to be close to her girls, especially since it was Tuesday night dinner and Andy looked like she wasn't going to be there. She had wanted to reassure them, since she's had to admit that she'd not yet heard from the young reporter. She hadn't done a very good job, since she had yet to reassure herself and the girls were now glued to the TV in the second floor entertainment room, just as tense and frightened as their mother. She felt that she somehow let them down, and worried at the information they were receiving from the newscasts, but honestly, what could she do? Her façade was nearly worn to the bone and she was very close to calling the hospitals around where the attack had occurred; a ludicrous notion to be sure.

Cara entered the room and took in the worried expression. She knew that Miranda and the girl had had a disagreement but no details really; that had to be making it worse.

"Miranda," she said quietly, "dinner is ready, do you want me to call the girls down?"

The silver head lifted as Miranda, still dressed in her work suit, heels lying neglected next to the couch, stared past her as she paused from her aimless movement and nodded. The housekeeper moved back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

Thundering feet pounded down the steps, beating Miranda's hasty trek to the door by several feet as the twins threw open the door and stood suddenly still. Staring.

"Who are you?" Caro demanded in her imperious manner.

Miranda came up behind them, placing her hands lightly on each shoulder and uttered an even, "Girls."

They both dejectedly turned back into the entrance hall, Cass uttering a sad, "We thought it was Andy." Allowing Miranda to get a good look at the darker skinned young woman shivering at her door; the woman gazed back with an inscrutable look and intuition told her that this was not going to be good.

"Miranda, I'm Lily, Andy's friend."

At the sound of Andy's name the twins both perked up. "Andy? Where is she? Why are you here?"

"Girls!" This time it was uttered with more heat and immediately the twins fell silent. "Go into the kitchen and tell Cara that I'll be delayed for dinner." When neither child looked as though they were going to comply she shot them a look she usually reserved for those in her employ and they scampered to do her bidding.

Miranda regarded Lily as she stepped aside and guided her into the front sitting room, heart hammering and hands shaking as she secured the door behind them. She cleared her throat and shored up her strength, piercing the other woman, still in her coat, with an intense, level stare. "Please sit and tell me."

Lily took in the pinched features of the woman she had always visualized as a cold hearted, entitled bitch, one she had imagined must have been ten feet tall with fangs and breathing fire. But before her stood the antithesis of that image, instead now a woman, not even as tall as Andy, who was obviously worried out of her mind but trying very hard to keep it together.

"She was on the train that had the bomb." Lily watched as mascara darkened lashes closed briefly and fists whitened as tense fingers were clenched even tighter.

"Is she alive?" She whispered, barely able to muster the coherence to vocalize; that simple question cost Miranda dearly in terms of the control needed to not completely lose it.

"Yes." Lily had managed to keep herself calm, but the stress she'd experienced in the last hours caused her voice to break slightly with frustration. "But they won't tell me the extent of her injuries over the phone!" She cleared her throat. "Doug is on his way but he was walking from his place on 102nd St. down to St. Luke's Hospital."

A cascade of relief whirled within Miranda as a continuous stream of s_he's alive, she's alive, she's alive…_ looped through her; interrupted only when her conscious mind processed the scope of the young man's undertaking.

"That's over fifty blocks!"

Lily shrugged, Doug would walk a hundred miles for either one of them without batting an eye. "I'm hoping he was able to find a ride, he'd already walked from the Village to home today."

Miranda looked at her watch, it was now after six, a million questions running through her mind but she deferred them all knowing that she had two important things to do first. Tell the girls and get to that hospital.

She looked at the young woman speculatively. "Have you eaten?"

"I don't know that I can."

"I understand. We will leave as soon as I let my girls know; they've been very worried."

Lily gazed at the other woman, _I can see that they weren't the only ones_, and nodded.

The regal woman stood and issued a single request. "Follow me."

Lily looked around her, eyes widening at several pieces of art that adorned the walls, unable to help the mental tally which amassed nearly seven figures just from the front sitting room, entrance hall and what looked to be a den. Then she was back in a warmly lit room of gleaming white, twin red-heads seated at the table pushing around small amounts of food arranged on white plates. An older woman sat scanning a magazine at the other end of the table, and she looked up as they entered the room.

Caroline and Cassidy immediately jumped up and moved towards their mother, each taking one of their mom's hands in an eerily choreographed movement.

Miranda squeezed both of their hands and despite her best efforts felt her eyes begin to well with tears. _No, this is not the time!_

"Andrea is alive," she had to pause a minute and close her eyes, "she was in the tunnel but she's badly hurt. She's in the hospital and I am going to go to her."

"Mom! We want to go too!"

"No, not now; not yet, she will probably be kept somewhere that will not allow many in and certainly not children." She pulled both girls in for a hug. "Mommy will let you know Bobbseys, okay? As soon as I know I will call." She kissed both girls on the head. "I love you babies."

She looked up at Cara and the older woman nodded then she turned towards her desk and pulled what appeared to be a long thin wallet out of the top drawer and dropped it into her purse, slid her four inch heels back onto her feet and regarded the younger woman who stood staring at her like she was seeing the rarest of animals at the zoo.

She snorted lightly. "Not quite the imperious queen you were expecting?"

At the other woman's continued silence she shook her head haughtily. "No matter. Let's go, my car's not too far away. You should call your friend Doug and see if he's managed to make it, if not we'll collect him on the way."

l l l l l l l


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Here is the next little bit. All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers; this chapter rated PG-13.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Lily looked out the window of the Porsche at the slowly moving landscape. Miranda, after checking the traffic on her phone, concluded that it would be in their best interests to head north around the park and then south down West End or Columbus Avenue. But even so, traffic was snarled and they crept along, mostly in silence.

Lily had relayed all of the details she knew, that Andy had been trapped underground and not pulled out until around one-thirty. When Miranda asked how they knew to contact Doug and herself she relayed Andy's worry about her father and his right-to-life stance, knowing that her friends would make decisions solely based on her welfare and not their dogma.

Miranda murmured, "Always so practical."

Lily looked at her, "Yeah, she is, except when it comes to you."

Miranda's eyes left their focus on the tail and brake lights of the car in front of them and focused entirely on the other woman. "I take it you have a problem with that?"

Lily laughed, a reaction that she could tell took the other woman by surprise. "As if Andy would care. She told me what it was and that was it. She's my best friend and I love her; I want her to be happy and if you make her happy, then who am I?

"But that doesn't mean I don't have concerns. I mean there are so many things that could get totally fucked up here that it's mind-boggling."

Miranda continued to stare for a moment. "I take it that plain-speaking is a Midwestern trait?"

"Ah, not always. It's just something that the three of us have always valued about one another."

Lily's phone rang and she glanced quickly at the number. "This is Andy's mom. Louise? Shit, nothing? No, I haven't been able to get to the hospital yet, but I'm with…" sudden movement out of the corner of her eye and she nodded at the raised finger and slight head shake, "a friend who has a car, so we're on our way. The city transit is all shut down and it's a mess. It's probably good you're not coming in tonight; you wouldn't be able to get in once you landed. Yeah, I'll call you as soon as I know anything. I don't know where Doug is yet, he was walking from his apartment and we're going to call him when we get closer and see if we can pick him up if he hasn't gotten there yet. Okay, yeah, she'll be alright, she's a fighter. Bye for now."

"Fuck."

"I take it they can't get a flight?"

"The earliest is tomorrow afternoon. Since the airports aren't going to be reopened until they think midnight there's no flights and then a huge backlog for tomorrow, Louise is beside herself, she's almost ready to just get in the car and drive but it would just put her here at about the same time as waiting to fly tomorrow, especially with bad weather in western Pennsylvania."

"Thank you." Miranda's tone was one of quiet evenness.

"For what?"

"For not mentioning my name. As you probably know Andrea has been reluctant to inform her family of our…" What were they? It was more than an affair, it was more than anything she'd ever experienced. "relationship. And perhaps she was correct in doing so, I am… well." She sighed. "I am going to sit by her side because she is everything and I don't even know if she'll want to see me."

At Lily's gasp the older woman shook her head. "Ah, I see she didn't tell you. We had an unpleasant argument on Sunday and we each said some things…" She pursed her lips, "it doesn't matter really; I think it was something we would have worked through. I hope it is. I hope we have that chance."

Hope.

Lily took in the soothing, almost sensual manner with which Miranda conducted herself. There was a warmth there she never expected. She had seen it earlier with her daughters and now, explaining herself when no explanation was asked for. She felt the axis tilt on her world and understood suddenly why Andy was so absolutely hooked on the, now very human to her, woman.

"You are nothing like I expected." Lily matched the quiet, not wishing to break the moment.

"Yes, well, it is a good trait for a woman to have in business." Some of the formality slipped back in.

Lily sighed, "No, please, I didn't say that with the intention of highlighting any negativity. Andy had tried to explain and I just didn't get it. All I've been able to see regarding you is really what the papers say and Andy's stories of when she worked for you, especially at the beginning. I'm sorry. Really."

Miranda was silent for several moments, checking the GPS in her phone, adjusting their travel to streets less clogged. "It is a hazard of being in the public eye. People make you into the image they have of you. This is what I fear most for Andrea, it is not easy to meet someone for the first time and have them think they know what is the sum total of your being; it can be quite the roadblock."

"I think, despite where you and Andy left things the other day that you'll find that she'll deal with all of it well enough as long as she has you at the end of the day. She can be a hothead sometimes but she comes around; she's loyal and when she loves, it takes more than words shouted in anger to shake it."

Miranda stayed silent, contemplating, hoping that Andrea's friend was right. Then she concentrated back on the traffic for the moment, quelling a sudden desire to bang the steering wheel in frustration at their slow progress. The conversation that Lily had had with Andy's mother came back into mind and an idea began to take shape. Granted it would probably end up complicating things but it would get Andy's family to her bedside in a more expeditious manner.

She picked up her phone and hit one of the speed dial numbers; it was picked up immediately. "Madeline, I need your help."

Lily's eyes grew wide as she listened in. _Seriously? A private jet? _

"Where are you? Chicago? I'd forgotten you were out there...midnight? Oui, bon. Yes dear friend, that is far better than what they would do on an airline... I'll contact Emily and let her know, tell her you'll get her details and I'll have her arrange a car to meet them and you… Non…" The editor chuckled dryly. "They will stay at a hotel, I do not believe they would be ready for any other accommodation at this time…Yes, perhaps. Merci; be safe."

Miranda tapped the phone off and caught the expression on Andy's friend's face. Gobsmacked was what they used to say. "Do be a dear and phone Andy's mother. Tell her to pack a bag for her and her husband that a private jet will be in the air from Chicago within three and a half hours and that they will be receiving a phone call, informing them of where and when to meet it, within the hour."

"Oh, you don't know Mr. and Mrs. Sachs, between Richard's pride and Louise's natural inquisitiveness this is going to be a tough sell."

"Nonsense. Tell them a friend of Andy's wishes for her to have whatever it takes for her to get well; that will be enough." When it looked like Lily was about to protest further she cut her off.

"Once you have children, if you so desire them, you will understand. They will not care right now about the how or the why, only that they will be near their baby before the sun rises tomorrow."

Lily looked at the woman yet again with new eyes as she hung up. Indeed Louise had not even asked who the plane belonged to; honestly this woman was a master. Miranda was now dialing again and she waited in rapt anticipation of what would be witnessed next.

"Emily."

"Miranda?" Emily looked at the clock, it was going on seven thirty. She was still in the office, with Nigel, sorting through fabric swatches for an upcoming photo-shoot. They were amongst the Elias-Clarke employees who had found it would be more difficult to get to their homes than stay in the building and were using the time to get themselves caught up on regular business.

"I need you to be my assistant again for a few hours or maybe even days. Understand, this is not a demotion for you in any way. I just need…" Her voice sounded brittle, it very nearly cracked and she knew the other woman heard it.

"Miranda, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

Nigel's head shot up and he looked questioningly at her. The redhead abruptly waved at him in a nearly frantic "I don't know" fashion and told him to be quiet with her index finger to her lips.

"Emily, I need someone I can trust and upon who I may rely. You are both." She heard a commotion in the back ground as Nigel was growing increasingly concerned by what he heard of the conversation and by the stunned look on the Brit's face.

"Thank you Miranda, you know I will do anything I am able."

"Yes, thank you." Miranda swallowed her emotions and continued.

"First, you will be receiving a phone call from a friend of mine named Madeline; she will be giving you details of the arrival of a private jet. The two individuals on that jet will need to be taken by private car, at my expense, not Elias-Clarke, to St. Luke's Hospital. I also require that they be given reservations at The Barclay, make sure it's a suite with a pantry, and that after they reach the hospital that their luggage be delivered to the hotel. Put the reservation in their name but arrange for payment to be made from my private account."

Emily was thoroughly confused but had still managed to get all of the details, save one. "Uhm, what is the name under which I'm making the reservation?"

"Sachs, Louise and Richard Sachs."

Nigel could take it no more and he saw his chance when his assistant looked as though she had seen Jesus walking down the street in a Galliano evening gown.

"Miranda? What did you say to my assistant? She looks like she just witnessed the second coming."

"Nigel?" Hearing her dear friend's voice was the final straw and a strangled sob finally bubbled up and through the iron reserve.

All levity evaporated and he settled back into his cushioned chair. "Miranda, what is it? Are you alright? Is it the girls? What's happened?"

The car was stopped completely and had only moved about one block in the past five minutes and Lily, realizing that Miranda may well need to lose it and probably wouldn't with her next to her, caught her attention; "I'm going to smoke a cigarette." she mouthed and motioned that she'd be near. Before the editor knew it she was alone.

"Nigel, Andrea was in the tunnel."

"The tunnel, I don't… oh god. Is she, is she…"

"She's alive, but we don't know anything more yet. We've been trying to get to that goddamned inferior hospital but this _fucking_ traffic…and I… and I…" That was it. She dropped the phone in her lap, finally giving up the struggle and letting go.

Nigel heard the heaving sobs and moved the phone away from his ear, enough so she had some privacy but so he could still hear if she were to speak. His own tears spilled over and he tried to hide them without much success.

"It's Andy isn't it? She's been seeing Andy? Nigel, what's happened?" Despite her shock Emily managed not to shriek, even though that's how she was feeling inside; instead her voice was a pleading, near whisper.

"Yes, they're together and have been for the last two months or so and Andy was on the subway train with the bomb. She was the one trapped and injured, severely if the news reports are accurate."

Emily covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh bloody hell. Let me talk to her again."

But Nigel pushed her away. "No. Not right now. Use my phone to do whatever it is she requested. Go."

l l l l l l l

The wracking sobs quieted after a couple of minutes and the blaring of a horn brought Miranda back to her surroundings. She moved the car up about twenty feet, almost to an intersection. She exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, finally, Columbus Avenue, and looked out the window, seeing Lily standing at the corner under a street lamp. Knowing she only had a few minutes before she'd need to reclaim her conscientious passenger the emotionally exhausted woman searched her purse with trembling fingers finally locating a tissue. She cleared her nose and dabbed the corners of her eyes, grateful for waterproof mascara, when the material came back free of smudges. The cell phone in her lap reflected the lights from her dashboard and she remembered, _Nigel_.

Clearing her throat, her voice was gravelly when she spoke. "Nigel?"

The tentative tone nearly broke the man's heart. "I'm here. What can I do?" Not, "are you alright?" Statement of the obvious was never tolerated.

"Thank you my friend."

Nigel was feeling completely helpless but accepted the gratitude. "I wish there were something I could do to make this easier."

"I needed that I think." She laughed without mirth. "Right now there's nothing else you can do but…your job." She snorted, remembering how it had turned out the last time she'd said that to Andrea; no, that hadn't turned out well at all. "And unfortunately, mine too. I don't know what I'm going to do. I need to stay with her, once I know what's going on, well, we'll see. But tomorrow there is so much…"

"Of course you need to stay with her; don't think about it right now. I'll figure it out and handle it. Emily and I will get whatever done. You've been coaching each of us towards greater independence for nearly the past year, we'll just have to fly a little sooner. Okay?"

Miranda pulled up to the light and flipped her brights, signaling for Lily to get back in. Lily kicked the slushy snow off her black suede Uggs and settled gratefully back into the warmth of the heated seat, eyes taking in a quick glance at the editor before moving her gaze quickly forward.

"Have Emily call when all of the details are in place and Nigel… again, thank you."

Lily was amazed, she had seen the woman clearly lose it minutes ago but now, one would have never known. The smooth delivery, the control over what needed to be accomplished; all of it was now neatly pinned back in place as if never disturbed.

"You're welcome; please let us know how she is."

"I will; you're a good friend." And then she tapped the glass and returned her view back to the road as she finally turned the car south. They had just about fifty blocks to cover and she was gratified to see that traffic was at least crawling as opposed to the parking lot they had just left. She turned to the younger woman.

"Do you really smoke?"

Lily was taken unawares, having been staring blankly out the window. "Uhm, yeah."

Miranda raised her eyebrow and shot her a pointed look.

"Oh! They're Marlboro Lights?"

"They could be Camel unfiltered and I'd still take one now."

Lily snorted and fished one out then passed it over as Miranda lowered her window and blasted the heat. Lily pulled out the lighter and flicked it, watching in fascination as the eyelids drooped closed, the lips pulled slightly and a quick flash of skin was revealed as the "v" in the low-cut blouse shifted when the editor leaned slightly over and deftly inhaled. Suddenly another layer that surrounded the mystery of what her best friend saw in this woman was pulled away; god she was sexy!

The assessment did not escape notice; Miranda brushed back at a few strands of her silver hair that had tumbled over her left eye and smirked slightly. "You may want to phone your friend, see if he needs us to fetch him."

Lily shook herself slightly and dialed. It had been nearly an hour and a half since she'd last spoke to Doug; when he picked up on the third ring she didn't even bother with pleasantries.

"Where are you?"

"Almost there" he huffed, "just passed 68th."

Lily looked out at the passing street sign, "We're just passing W. 85th on Columbus, why don't you head over to Columbus and we'll pick you up?"

"Oh thank god! My feet are killing me!" Doug clicked his phone shut and with renewed energy changed direction.

l l l l l l l

When finally they turned onto W. 58th St. Lily noted that the entire street was lined with large satellite trucks, each sporting logos of the major media outlets, including all of the New York stations. Two porta-potties had been dropped near the end of the line and some of the trucks had folding chairs erected next to the curb.

"Wow, looks like they're prepared for the long-haul; wonder why they're all here? Do you think this is as close as they'd let 'em to the blast site?" No one answered as the questions were more rhetorical than anything but as they drew closer to the entrance they all noted that several field reporters were engaged in live spots, bright lights piercing the chilled darkness, creating an ethereal glow up the side of the brick and glass structure.

The trio pulled up the covered entrance ramp, nearly two hours after Miranda and Lily had set out from the townhouse. As Doug extricated his largish form from the back of the Porsche a security officer approached the car.

"You can't park here ma'am."

"I am well aware of that young man, but you need to understand that we need to be in that hospital now."

"You're not press are you?"

Miranda did not have time for this ridiculous game of twenty questions but Lily answered in her stead. "Please! We're next of kin to someone who is badly hurt and they need us in there now."

"Well your car can't stay here."

"Do you know where the car would be able to stay?" Miranda straightened and sniffed, while one hand entered her purse and pulled out the wallet she'd grabbed earlier.

"Uhm, yes."

"Good. Then you would undoubtedly be able to see that it gets there."

He was about to object until he looked down at the two crisp one hundred dollar bills that were shoved into his hand. "But…"

She handed him her card and continued as if she were at a country club on a Sunday afternoon, not in the middle of a cold New York still grappling with a day of surreal chaos. "It will be doubled if the keys are returned to me. They're in the ignition. That's all."

She turned then on her heel and tilted her head towards her two passengers who stood gaping. "Come along; Andrea is waiting."

l l l l l l l

The hospital social worker, Mrs. Irene Palteroy, made her way swiftly from her office to the front information desk. Normally family would have been directed to the floor that the patient was on and she'd meet with them in one of the special waiting areas but this was not an ordinary day and this was no ordinary patient.

"My god! The level of incompetence here is staggering! How difficult could it possibly be to check the status of one patient and at least tell us her condition!"

"I'm sorry ma'am but with all of the press we can't give out any information until you've been verified as being who you say you are." Miranda stared daggers at the unfortunate administrative aide.

"Please," the young man pleaded, "if you are who you say you are, which I personally believe you are, then it will only be another minute," he swallowed as the laser gaze sharpened even more, if that was possible. "We've already stopped one reporter and a photographer who tried the same thing. This is for Ms. Sachs protection and privacy."

Doug moved closer and leaned on the counter; he looked wind-burned and exhausted and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I don't understand, why do they want to get to Andy?"

The attendant looked relieved to have someone other to look at and hurriedly explained. "You don't know?"

Miranda threw her hands up and huffed. "Why must everyone speak in riddles today?"

Doug shot the man his own look of displeasure and bit out, "If I knew I wouldn't be asking."

"She's the 'Angel of the Broadway Line'; she saved every person on that train today. Don't you people watch the news?"

Unseen by all Irene had finally made it to the lobby and was walking up to the trio when she heard Bill's exclamation.

Miranda turned swiftly snarled in her lowest register. "Do. You. Have any idea what we have gone through today? No. Between communication cock-ups, transit shutdowns, traffic snarls and walking for blocks on end to reach the side of the woman that each of us _loves_, just when do you propose that we would have had the luxury of sitting back and 'watching the news'?"

She brought her hand to her forehead and rubbed at the splitting ache that bloomed with the uncharacteristic outburst. "Where _**is**_ that woman?"

Taking her cue Irene strode up and stood just outside of their periphery. "Okay Bill, I've got it from here." Bill's eyes, which were as wide as saucers, merely nodded; his relief palpable.

"If the three of you will kindly follow me." She led them through a set of swinging doors and then into a small, battered conference room with six peeling cushioned blue vinyl chairs and a gray metal table.

Miranda skewered the chair she was directed to and bit back her first inclination. There wasn't time to waste voicing her disgust but if she were to find one bedbug on her person… The thought was left unfinished as the short, stocky brunette cleared her throat and asked to see each of their IDs.

"Will this get us closer to finally getting information as to Andrea's condition?"

"Yes, it will."

She looked at both Lily and Doug's cards and compared them with the notes she'd placed on the table in front of her, nodding; when she spied the name on the New York State driver's license she bit back her exclamation of surprise and internally sighed, she thought the woman looked familiar; this case just kept getting more and more complicated. "Ah, Ms. Priestly, unfortunately only Ms. Goodwin and Mr. Warner are listed as…"

"_**No**__._ You will listen. I understand HIPAA, I understand rules and I understand the law. The law states that those appointed guardianship, in this case, Douglas and Lily, have the right, in the event that Andrea's ability to determine for herself be compromised, to determine who hears what and who is allowed to see her. So let's not waste any more time."

The woman sat back, impressed despite herself, she had already realized that this was how it was probably going to be but had to follow procedure.

"You two are in agreement?"

"Definitely, the only reason that Miranda is not included is because Andy just hasn't had the time yet."

"Very well." The woman looked down at her notes for a moment, adjusted her no-line bifocals, and began. "Currently Ms. Sachs is critical but stable and is in a medically induced coma. Drugs have been administered to bring down the swelling in her brain but if they are not successful in the next two hours we will need to go in and remove a part of her skull to relieve the pressure."

Gasps were heard and then a calm, steady feminine voice softly directed. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning. What exactly are her injuries?"

"She was brought into our Level 1 trauma ward at 13:46 hours; you'll recall that the detonation point was at 07:56, so Ms. Sachs went with only the most very basic of first aid for nearly six hours.

"The police have determined that the device was a high order explosive; these create a concussive wave that can be particularly harmful to soft tissue and any organs that contain air. Ms. Sachs was fortunate in that she was far away enough from the epicenter to not have received the most severe damage possible but still, she was impacted. It is reported, and the pattern of damage corroborates, that she was moving away from the blast center with her arms around a small boy, this detail is important when considering some of the "how" of her injuries.

"Starting with her legs, there are numerous small scratches and punctures along the backs of both and one deeper wound at the top of her left thigh, just below her buttock, that was caused by a piece of shrapnel. Fortunately the transit officer who was with her was able to extract the metal and stop the bleeding. Sixteen stitches were required to close the wound and there was a goodly amount of debris in the wound so we are watching closely for signs of infection.

"She was wearing a heavy leather jacket which enabled her back and arms to have escaped superficial damage although she has multiple bruises on the exterior portions of both forearms and her right shoulder from when she impacted the ground.

"Three of her ribs on the right side are fractured, two complete breaks and one a hairline. Both have been manipulated into place although one may yet require further intervention." Irene paused for a moment and cleared her throat; her audience sat in rapt horror and she hadn't even gotten to the most severe wounds.

"There is a facial laceration about four inches in length that curves up from her jaw to mid-cheek on her right side, it looks as though it was caused by a piece of metal, perhaps a can but we don't know for sure; we do know it was most probably metal and it was thin and sharp. This is good because with plastic surgery it will be barely noticeable in time. The wound has not yet been closed, merely packed, in anticipation of surgical closure; it went straight through her cheek at one point and due to the amount of debris that entered the laceration we are also watching this area closely for infection.

"Now, the head injury. When Ms. Sachs fell she went mostly forward but with emphasis on her right side. We believe that her head impacted one of the rails. She has a concussion and her brain has been swelling. As I said before, she has been given medication and also a new treatment using cold therapy, basically the head is wrapped in an inflatable cap and cold water is pumped through continually. At last check the swelling had not been reduced, but neither had it increased, we are hopeful that this indicates that she has turned the corner and we will not need to remove part of her skull to relieve the pressure. We are watching to ensure no further issues, bleeding or swelling occur; but for now it looks good.

"There is a small tympanic perforation in her left ear. This means that the eardrum was punctured; at this time it will be left to heal on its own but will need to be monitored for progress. Prognosis is usually good with these things but she will experience some temporary hearing loss as it heals.

"Finally, there is some damage to her lungs and there may be some abdominal trauma that has yet to be manifested. As I mentioned at the beginning, a high order explosive will create a concussive wave that literally forces the air within the body to move at a high rate of speed and with much greater force than normal. Symptoms of damage can be seen immediately or within a window of about twenty four hours. Damage to the pulmonary system is called "Blast Lung" and she has a moderate case of it and is being treated with a drip of anti-oxidant and anti-inflammatory agents; her prognosis for it is good."

She looked around the table. Silent tears spilled over Lily's dark lashes, Doug stared down at his fisted hands and Miranda focused on a point on the wall, gaze impenetrable. But the social worker could read the clues and despite the notorious editor's will to project calm she could see that the woman was probably one good reason away from losing it.

Irene continued gently. "I know what I've described sounds absolutely horrible, but considering everything, this could have been much worse for your Andy. She's in good physical shape and was far enough away from the epicenter and not in one of the narrower tunnels so the blast wave was not as concentrated. She's a very lucky young woman."

Miranda's tone contained a hinting of her internal struggle. "What may we expect?"

"She will be kept in a drug-induced coma for the next three days to allow the swelling in her brain to reduce and her body to heal, especially the ribs. Once those drugs are discontinued she should awaken naturally, but we don't know how long that will take. Brain activity is present and, at this point in a recovery, in line with expected parameters."

Miranda nodded, then asked the question now most on their minds. "When can we see her?"

"I'll take you up to the Trauma ICU in a few moments. Are there any other questions?"

"Will we be able to stay with her?"

"It's a shared ward and there's not a lot of space so only two at a time but only when she's on the ward. Once the swelling goes down and we are absolutely sure that there are no abdominal issues she will be moved to another room. She has insurance and it allows for a semi-private…"

"No."

All eyes shifted to the silver-haired woman. "Absolutely not. When she is stabilized will she be able to be moved to another hospital?"

"Ms. Priestly…"

"While I am sure that your hospital is able to provide adequate care for the majority of your patients Andrea shall have nothing but the best. New York-Presbyterian is the best and when it is safe I want her to be moved…"

"You have no say in this Ms. Priestly…"

"Miranda…" Lily was watching the entire display between the fashion executive and social worker in fascinated appall. She was so utterly presumptuous and embarrassingly rude and yet was opening doors for Andy's recovery that could make all the difference. She may have only been in the city for a few years but she understood what an institution like Presby could offer. Her eyes cut over to Doug and from his thoughtful expression and red-cheeked embarrassment she surmised he was thinking along the same lines.

Conversation stopped but Lily was ignored as the two women glared at one another for a moment then the editor turned her "one who is to be obeyed" look on the young curator. Lily actually had to remind herself to breathe for a moment and without breaking her sudden stare- down asked in a polite voice. "Irene, would you please give us a minute?"

Irene nodded her head, already planning on calling the lead doctor in Ms. Sachs' care to discern just when she could be safely moved realizing that providing a roadblock in this instance would serve no one. "I'll be outside, I need to make a call so may be an extra minute or two, just stick your head out when you're ready for me."

Once the door closed Lily broke the tableau of silence and put her head in her hands; despite knowledge that the other hospital was probably the best thing she was extremely pissed off. "This is the most surreal fucking day of my life." She looked up and glared back at the other woman. "Can I just ask why you had to be so, so, Jesus Christ Miranda, you do know it's possible to get things done by being nice right? She was being very helpful and you just plowed right in like you are the one making the decisions, which you are _**not**_." Lily sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

Miranda narrowed her eyes and prepared for battle, these two children had no idea what they were dealing with here. She opened her mouth to inform them of just that but was met with a quiet, "No, don't say anything yet." Doug looked at the two women and shook his head.

"I could let you two escalate into full blown temper tantrums, walk out of this room right now and go see Andy and let the hospital do whatever they see fit."

Both women threw outraged daggers in his direction and he held up his hand. "But that's not what's going to happen. Miranda, would you please just talk to us for a minute? Tell us why it would be in Andy's best interest to be moved to Presby?"

Miranda considered for a moment and conceded the point with grudging respect. "They have the best pulmonary trauma and surgical care in the city if not the country; they also have a renowned plastic surgery center. I could go on but do I need to? I am willing to pay whatever her insurance will not cover."

"Andy's not going to like that one bit." Lily knew her friend; Andy had spoken briefly on the phone a few days before about worrying that she couldn't keep up with her wealthy lover.

Doug interjected. "Well Andy's going to like all the press attention around this even less. What the hell did that guy call her at the desk, Angel of Broadway? What does that mean?"

"Another reason to move her. New York-Presbyterian has private suites, with, I might add, accommodations attached directly to the rooms for families. They are very discrete."

Lily shot her a measuring glance. "You're just afraid that the press will see you."

"I assure you that that is not the case."

"Oh come on Miranda, seriously?" Lily was incredulous.

"Not that I have to explain myself to you but I am, as well as my children are, fully prepared for that inevitability, it is Andrea for whom I am most concerned. We'd already discussed it; it is at her will that our relationship will be made public; if I can give her that then _**damn**_ it, I will." She shifted in her seat, and turned her gaze back towards the silent young man. "Let's please get on with this, I need to see her. We've wasted quite enough time."

Doug watched the two woman spar, again and sighed heavily, but gladdened at Miranda's words. "I agree, to both that and moving her. Lily?"

Lily closed her eyes, she didn't know why she had even argued, but the other woman's imperious attitude, despite the insights gained during their car ride, rubbed her the wrong way. "Yeah, fine. I agree. Let's get her back in here."

While Doug got up and went to retrieve Irene, Miranda dialed Emily who answered on the first ring. "Emily."

"Miranda, how is she?"

"Critical but stable." The editor paused at Emily's sigh, she always suspected that her former assistant had a soft-spot for the reporter, but the British woman was always too stubborn to admit it.

"I need you to call Glenda Carmichael, she's the Chief Operating Officer of New York-Presbyterian and inform her that I am making a direct request for a private suite off of the critical care unit; tell her our arrival will be at some point in the next two to twelve hours and that they will be receiving the medical records for this individual shortly. Also relay that this a highly confidential transfer and her name is not to be made available to the press."

"Yes Miranda, I will text you with confirmation and call when I have all details."

"Thank you." Miranda hung up and noting that the others had yet to return she called the girls, giving them a brief update. She finished quickly; promising to keep them informed if there were changes and then spoke to Cara, instructing her to see they got to bed at a decent hour. She completed the call just as the door opened and Irene and Doug returned.

Irene settled back into her chair. "You realize that this is not how we usually do things here."

"Nor is this a usual case. Aside from the obvious technological advances available for treating her, apparently Andrea is of some interest to the press as your desk clerk so helpfully pointed out, she needs to be shielded as much as possible."

Doug decided to finally get clarification on the matter. "What exactly did he mean by 'Angel of Broadway'? What's that have to do with Andy?"

"The press have dubbed her the 'Angel of the Broadway Line' as passengers are reporting that it was due to Ms. Sachs' awareness and intervention that the bomb was noticed, the train stopped and evacuated in time. She also saved a little boy, Joshua Jimenez, when his mother could not manage both him and her infant. Andy was already away from the train but saw the woman struggling and went back into the danger zone to help; that's when she was caught in the explosion, and then was trapped with the boy and a transit officer, Bud Straszinksi, who had tried to help her when the roof collapsed between them and the exit point." She took in the awed expressions of her audience.

"Your Andy is a hero and, since the authorities have yet to release her name pending notification of her family, a mysterious one, which is making the media even more crazy."

"All the more reason for this move." Miranda emphasized, then added with deceptive mildness, "Shall we expect any resistance?"

Irene internally rolled her eyes, she was not in the habit of dealing with the city's wealthy elite because usually they took their business elsewhere and the woman's imperious attitude was starting to try her nerves. She looked at the two with the medical authority and they both indicated all were in agreement.

Irene, whose shift had ended hours before, tiredly smiled. "I thought as much and have already discussed the matter with her doctor, brain swelling has stopped and her vitals have stabilized; if this continues at this rate she will be able to be moved in about two hours. She will be moved by helicopter, with the traffic nightmare out there, it will be the least disruptive, as it will only take minutes, however, and this is not negotiable, only one of you may accompany her and it must be either Lily or Doug. In the event that a decision is needed to any part of her care we must have access."

Miranda understood protesting would do no good in this instance and nodded. "My assistant should already have notified Presby that transfer is imminent." Miranda stared at the social worker daring her to comment. "They will be expecting her chart in the short term."

Irene snorted but held her tongue. "Well then, let's go on up, I've kept you from your friend long enough."

l l l l l l l


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **The meeting of families is almost upon us, but not quite; still, this chapter may satisfy your curiosity a bit as to how it might go… All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers; this chapter rated PG-13.

**Chapter Eight**

The trio was escorted to the Trauma ICU waiting room, a sedately decorated space with low lighting and sound absorbing carpet. A few clusters of people sat in varying states of emotion, talking quietly, reading or gazing into space.

Irene turned to her charges, "I can take you in two at a time or alone. What do you prefer?"

Lily looked at the carefully neutral expression on Miranda's face and said. "Why don't you take Miranda and Doug first, then Miranda can stay and I'll go in after Doug?"

Miranda shot a surprised look at the girl; honestly, she was all over the map today, aggressive anger interspersed with unexpected kindnesses; she idly wondered if the young woman was always like this or if it was just the stress of the day. "Thank you Lily."

"Actually, Miranda," Doug offered, "why don't you go in by yourself for a few minutes and then one of us will join you?"

"Thank you Douglas, that is very kind."

The editor was led through a set of double swinging doors into a brightly lit space that contained desks arranged in a "U" shape, each with several monitors and other electronic devices alive with constant streams of data. Each desk was monitored by two staff members whose eyes did not wander at her entrance. Beyond the command station the lights dimmed a bit, curtains ran three walls of the outer perimeter, most closed, and they headed to one that was about midway down on the right.

Before they entered Irene stopped and placed a steadying hand on the fashion queen's forearm. "Be prepared, she's been through a lot and it's going to look pretty shocking, okay? But she's alive and it will get better."

Miranda startled at the unsolicited touch, but did not move to scold. She nodded that she understood, steeling herself for the worst.

The gasp was wrenched out of her quite against her will and try as she might to fight them; the tears brimmed and then fell. She was vaguely aware that Irene had left and she was alone in the darkened space as the pulling of the curtain dimmed the lights further.

"Oh my love, what did you do?" The older woman sobbed quietly while she moved towards the head of the right side of the bed and stood, hands aching to touch but afraid that she might somehow bring further pain. She looked through blurry eyes at the pale features overprinted with dark purpling bruises, beautiful face swollen and partially covered with a large gauze bandage. A tube into her mouth led to a machine that pumped air, wires seemed to connect everywhere, temples and chest most visible. Her beautiful brown hair lay limp and was pushed back; tubes ran into her bruised arms and under the sheets leading to her midsection.

A chair was positioned next to the head of the bed and Miranda dragged it more towards the middle and sunk into it; grateful for its sturdy respite, as she became aware that her legs were quite possibly ready to give out, the world darkening at its edges for a brief couple of minutes. The woman who could have anything sat humbled, staring at the blinking lights, the rhythmic rise and fall of the sheet in time with the even whooshing click and gush of the respirator. She was relieved to finally have reached her side, to finally see for herself that her Andrea lived; but it wasn't enough.

The intelligent, often mirth-filled gaze was shuttered, closing off one of the key avenues of their connection. Unable to bear the separation any longer she reached her right hand out and with the tip of her index finger, tentatively touched the battered reporter's left hand, which was resting on top of crisply turned sheets. In so sterile of an environment she was surprised to discover that Andrea's skin felt warm to the touch.

Pale gray eyes, the normal blue nearly completely leeched out, searched the skin below the IV tube, and she traced gently the long fingers, avoiding the sprinkling of now scabbed thin cuts and scrapes. She watched for any indication that the unconscious woman might be reacting negatively to the touch and then, desperately needing to feel more of her, slid her hand between sheets and palm and gently curled around the unresponsive fingers. Better.

This was how first Doug and then Lily, found her. Still as a statue; gaze intent upon the watching. To Doug she seemed like a guardian angel fallen to earth; to Lily, a goddess embodying both potential redemption and destruction.

If the woman had been privy to either of their thoughts she would have laughed at the irony for neither realized that the anguished ruler of the fashion world viewed herself not as the one with the power to bring her Andrea back but was instead, the supplicant; hoping with measured fervent optimism that once awakened, _**her **_goddess would not send her away.

l l l l l l l

About two hours after Miranda had settled in besides the Sachs' youngest child, a modest sized jet touched wheels to concrete on the runway of a medium-sized airport within the Cincinnati city limits.

Louise and Richard Sachs watched as the sleek Dassault Falcon 900LX, with a discrete French flag painted on its tail, rolled past the window of the heated waiting room of the JetCincy hangar, on its way towards the refilling station just past the building. It had been nearly four hours since the initial phone call from a woman with a British accent informing them that a "friend" of Andy's wished to assist them in getting to her bedside. They'd been so shocked at the time that they didn't ask questions, knowing really that it didn't matter. But in the time since, amongst the bloom of intense worry, each wondered at how their daughter could possibly know someone with so much obvious wealth and to such a degree that they'd be willing to dispatch their own private plane at the drop of a hat.

l l l l l l l

It was midnight when finally they stepped aboard the Falcon, tired eyes widening in shock at the luxuriously appointed space.

Richard looked down at his wife and muttered, "There is no possible way we could afford to pay whoever it is back for this."

Before Louise could reply movement from behind a partition brought to them an awareness that they were not to be traveling alone. "Ah, Mr. Sachs? It is good that you could not afford it for I would not accept it." Madeline smiled her most engaging smile and walked forward, copper-shot-with-silver hair nearly glowing as she stood beneath one of the halogen lamps tucked into the ceiling.

Louise took the measure of the Frenchwoman, dressed in an elegantly tailored, low cut ivory silk blouse tucked into a copper skirt that shimmered slightly with each movement, and her list of questions nearly doubled but she politely extended her hand as an introduction was made.

"My name is Madeline and I am a friend of your daughter's." She shook hands, bent slightly and impulsively kissed each cheek of the formidable matriarch then repeated the action with Andy's father. "Please come, the sooner we are settled, the sooner we will be in the air and then it will not be long for you to see your Andrea."

Once the Sachs' had stored their bags in the luggage locker behind the cockpit area Madeline showed them to two large overstuffed leather chairs separated by a table. Madeline settled in at another across an aisle space and looked up with obvious pleasure as a tall, exceedingly fit, blonde woman in a well tailored black pant suit entered the plane and nodded before heading toward the cockpit.

Madeline smiled warmly, dimples and laugh lines accented. "Thank you Katrine, we are ready."

She turned and fastened her seatbelt, checking that her passengers did the same. Before long the engines began to rev, clearance from Lunken tower was given and the plane roared into the night.

l l l l l l l

Miranda had remained in her watchful pose until someone in scrubs entered the space and began checking both patient and information streaming to the monitors.

The doctor wasn't happy about the move, but he had no grounds for refusal as there would be little to no disruption in her care; she was to be hooked to a portable respirator and heart monitor and all fluids would transfer with her. By air the helicopter ride was only five minutes long; it took longer to move patients to x-ray and back once they were out of this ward. He shook his head again and signed off on the move on a clip board; he had noted that there was a slight drop in the hemoglobin count and instructed the doctors at Presby to monitor it. It could be nothing or it could be an indicator of a small bleed somewhere, the next assessment would be done in an hour and that would be the definitive answer; he questioned whether moving her at this stage would impact any bleeding and decided it would not; if it was a tear somewhere in her intestinal system it would be unaffected by the light jostling the patient would experience in transit.

l l l l l l l

After the plane reached cruising altitude Madeline unbuckled and stood. "Feel free to help yourself to anything. There is a full bar or I will make coffee and light snacks; I apologize that there is not more to offer but I did not intend on being in Chicago, nor for as long, and ended up eating in a restaurant downtown."

Louise looked at her hostess and shook her head. "I don't believe you owe us any apology; it is us who wish to thank you for this incredibly generous gesture. You said you were in Chicago?"

Madeline nodded. "I was returning to New York from San Francisco when the attack occurred; they closed the New York airports down after additional, unexploded, bombs were found; therefore we diverted and I ended up spending the day in Chicago. It was pure happenstance that I was 'in the neighborhood' but…" She hastened to add, "it would not of mattered, I would have found a way to fly out of New York to retrieve you. This is a horrible time for you both and it would not due to have you endure the needless stress of the waiting to get a commercial flight."

Madeline decided that a glass of wine sounded good and set about uncorking a blend of Grenache, Syrah and Mourvèdre from the Châteauneuf-du-Pape region. She lifted the dark bottle towards her guests and brought another glass with her at Louise's nod. She spent several minutes then assembling a few items from the stainless galley refrigerator and the mahogany cupboards then settled a tray between the Sachs' and went back to the coffee maker which had just finished brewing.

She'd just handed over a cup of steaming coffee to Richard which he politely thanked her for before deciding to explore the reasons for his instant distrust of the other woman. "You seem incredibly fond of our Andy." Richard looked suspiciously at the woman but the statement was said mildly enough.

Intelligent green eyes sparkled as she waved her hand, replying with an enigmatic smile. "Your Andrea is a very special woman."

"Yes she is; how did you come to meet her?" Louise wondered if this could possibly be the person whom her daughter was seeing; she'd not mentioned her conversation with Andy to Richard but still, her husband was already suspicious. She mentally rolled her eyes and considered the equanimity with which the other woman was approaching mention of Andy; no, she was definitely not involved with her daughter.

Madeline looked for a way to circumvent the persistent inquisition and was relieved when the satellite phone rang. She excused herself and walked a few paces to a desk with a multitude of work-related papers laid out on it.

"Alo? Ah. Oui, Comment est-elle?"

Madeline noted that her guests were still well within earshot and switched entirely to French; Miranda would be able to understand her.

"Yes, how is she?... Good,… oh, even better, yes, that is the best choice I believe. And you, how are you?... I know, it was not good timing, but she loves you, I saw it myself; you must not falter in your belief… And she will be alright she is strong… We will arrive at La Guardia within the hour and then it will probably be another hour, hopefully the traffic at this time of night will at least be manageable before we will arrive. No, I will not be coming up right now; it is time for family. But if you need me, you know I will be there for you. I love you my dear, stay strong."

Andrea's mother mused that people always made assumptions about others, based upon many things but geography seemed to play a greater influence than others. Madeline assumed that due their Midwestern roots the Sachs' did not speak or understand French. In the case of her husband, the woman was correct, but Louise had a beloved aunt who was from France who had taught her much as a child and then she had minored in it in college; although rusty, she still could follow a conversation.

The lawyer looked up as Madeline wrapped up the call; "…Je vous aime, mon cher, rester forts." she wasn't exactly sure of the final word but it was something like 'stay fortified' so, perhaps 'stay strong'? After word of how her daughter was doing, that wasn't exactly the part of the conversation that most interested her though, no, whoever was on the other end of the line was the woman her daughter was seeing and it sounded as though she were at the hospital with her.

The smaller Sachs glanced over at her husband, who was resting his eyes, and sent out yet another prayer into the night, that the universe would somehow see fit to furnish her husband with a good amount of self-restraint and decorum. Perhaps if she were to try to talk to him now, tell him her suspicions, at least he wouldn't be completely blindsided. She closed her eyes and mentally crossed her fingers.

Madeline returned to her seat and Louise asked, tension making the small lines around her mouth noticeable as she slightly pursed her lips. "Any word on Andy's condition?"

"She is good enough that they are not going to need surgery on her brain, the swelling has gone down a bit. She is being moved now to another hospital so we will be going there."

"Thank God." Richard uttered but then his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, "Why is she being moved and who is…?"

Louise placed a calming hand on her husband's arm. "I'm sure that Madeline doesn't know everything going on, she wasn't on the phone that long." She looked over at the other woman who was staring into her wine glass and didn't notice the implied prompt. "Madeline?"

The other woman started slightly and said distractedly, "Pardon, uhm, non, I did not get any further information."

Louise regarded the other woman for a moment and then smiled slyly but spoke softly if not haltingly; after all, it _had_ been awhile. "Votre langue est très belle, quelle partie de la France sont vous de?"

The glass of wine halted as it was poised upon the full lips and the green eyes flashed, but then filled with mirth. "Ah, yes. Well, you Americans have a saying no, about assumptions? Pardonnez moi, I meant no disrespect. And, in answer to your question, Cherbourg, a coastal town in the north."

"None taken but I must thank you, you've confirmed what I'd suspected; our daughter _**is**_ involved with someone, but she's been extremely hesitant to say anything about it." She glanced regrettably over at her husband whose eyes were suddenly very open and a glower was beginning to form.

Madeline saw too and nodded in understanding, it was all going to be out of the bag soon anyway; _perhaps I may help_.

"Louise, what's going on? What do you mean that Andy's seeing someone?"

"I told you I spoke with her last week, what I didn't tell you was that I had one of my 'feelings' and then asked her several questions that, while she didn't quite refuse to answer, she was still very vague. She didn't need to; what she didn't say said enough for me to surmise that she's been seeing someone…" Her voice trailed off for a moment as she looked expectantly at the other woman, "…I expect it's been since before Christmas…" and tightened her lips into a grim line as Madeline tilted her head slightly in affirmation. "…that that someone is a woman and that the relationship is very serious."

Richard glared suddenly at the other woman, "Surely it's not you?"

Madeline couldn't help herself; she laughed a full bark of mirth and sipped from her wine.

Before the other woman could counter Louise reached over and swatted him. "Oh for pete's sake Richard, don't be rude; besides, it's not her!"

She once again enacted a mental eye roll, _men are so blind sometimes,_ and shot the woman a playful once over; a rare moment of mirth in a day so fraught with worry. "Although for myself , I don't see anything wrong with her if it _had _been the case."

She cast an amused look in the other woman's direction and decided that her own wine was being neglected. _Hmm, maybe if I just down the rest of this wonderful bottle Richard's inevitable diatribe won't be so grating. _But under the sudden levity her heart was heavy with knowledge of the true undercurrents between herself and her husband; no amount of alcohol was going to blunt the coming storm once they landed.

Gratefully, for the moment, a stewing Richard remained quiet, so she returned her focus on the relaxed posture of her graceful host; _just how old is she?_ she pondered. If pushed she'd guess early to mid-forties but she could be older. Tiny crow's feet enhanced the pale woman's intelligent gaze, flitting from the corners when she laughed. She was probably a little taller than Andy and was fit, but not overly thin, with the definite curves of a woman. The lawyer then looked at the hands; the smooth, unblemished skin had tightened somewhat and the veins were slightly more prominent, she could very well be closer to fifty. Still, very beautiful and vibrant; she was almost disappointed that Andy wasn't involved with her. But that then begs the question…

Louise nudged in a mild, conversational tone which drew a raised eyebrow from Richard. "So, I take it that the woman Andy is seeing is a good friend of yours?"

Madeline smirked, what did Americans call those dogs with the locking jaws? Ah, pitbulls. But the protective friend saw it is an opportunity to take away the shock, after all some people had trouble with age. "Yes, we have been friends for many, many years."

Louise inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, her daughter never just dipped her toes in, nope, full throttle forward. "Just how old is Andy's, uh, this woman she's seeing?"

"Fifty-one I believe."

l l l l l l l

The trip this time on the streets of Manhattan, with the late hour and despite several detours, took considerably less time. Miranda moved the midnight blue Porsche Targa deftly through the streets and Lily gazed unseeing as the walls of Midtown passed by. When they arrived at the entrance a valet stepped forward and wordlessly took the keys and Lily couldn't help the tiny smirk, remembering the earlier incident; was that only five hours before?

They were escorted to the Critical Care Unit and the difference was astounding. The room was large and comfortable. Doug was laying back with his eyes closed on a loveseat matched by two flanking comfortable chairs and a coffee table beneath a large expanse of glass that looked over the East River, the lights of Roosevelt Island and then Queens twinkling out over the horizon. The wall nearest where the bed would be on the hallway side had a glass window with blinds that were currently closed.

Miranda noted the empty spot and didn't waste time with preamble. "Where is she? Is she alright?"

Doug started at the harsh tone and rubbed his face. "They took her to their imaging lab, they're concerned by her hemoglobin count; think maybe she's bleeding somewhere."

The older woman settled into a chair and slipped off her heels, her feet were screaming at the continued forced imprisonment. "Have you met her doctor?"

Doug yawned. "Yeah, Dr. Amelia Clarkson, chief attending. She said she'd return once you both arrived and she'd had a chance to make a full analysis."

Miranda nodded, worry once again churning the acid in her empty stomach. She looked around and spying a door leading to an adjacent room decided to investigate; another well-appointed space with sitting area and a separate bedroom with two queen size beds. Three garment bags hung from the bedroom door and her briefcase, containing her laptop and other essentials, rested on a mahogany desk, she smiled slightly at Emily's efficiency; she picked one of the garment bags and headed into the restroom, pleased to see two large toiletry cases resting on the vanity, one of which sported her monogram. After a quick removal of her makeup, she lightly reapplied only a basic concealer, a hint of color to her cheeks and light mascara then changed into a pair of dark gray silk/wool pants and a pale blue button down cotton blouse. She slid on a pair of two inch Prada boa-skin pumps dyed a deep gray and strode back into the space looking as though she'd just arisen after eight hours of restful sleep.

Doug and Lily gawked at her and she nodded. "There are two bags hanging on the bedroom door you both may find of interest; feel free to help yourself to anything in the vanity case next to the right sink in the bathroom." Miranda had texted their sizes to Emily earlier in the evening in the hopes of making her lover's friends as comfortable as possible.

A half hour later Lily emerged lightly fingering the butter soft material of a golden suede blouse from Ralph Lauren that was now tucked into a pair of black boot cut True Religion jeans. She looked over at Doug, who looked extremely comfortable in a black, long sleeve polo, also Ralph Lauren, and dark blue denim jeans. Miranda was on the phone, completing the call while Lily settled next to Doug, snuggling into his warmth.

"I really appreciate this Miranda, I felt like I'd spent a lifetime in those clothes."

"Hmm, yes, the waiting and not knowing is bad enough; none of us was prepared for this." She paused for a moment. "Andrea's parents are in the air but still about a half hour out, then it will probably take another forty-five minutes to an hour for them to get here from La Guardia." She looked at the clock, nearly one, "Hopefully by then we'll know more."

A discrete knock at the door brought a waiter with a room service cart who nodded at the group and set out a small selection of fruits, cheeses and whole grain breads, bagels and crackers along with a large carafe of coffee, juices and water. Doug blinked and Lily merely shook her head. "We've dropped down the fucking rabbit hole Dougie." The attendant smiled widely at the comment and chuckled.

Miranda tipped the man enough to ensure return service without interruption and turned towards the pair. "We have to eat something otherwise we will be of no use to Andrea."

Doug smiled lightly, "It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of that too."

The silver head dipped slightly. "Well, yes. I don't have much appetite it seems, but getting sick isn't going to help her. So." She sat, poured herself a cup of steaming coffee and forced herself to at least get something of substance into her body.

l l l l l l l

"Fifty-one!" Richard bellowed and the sound reverberated unpleasantly throughout the cabin.

"Richard! Please…"

"No! This is not possible! What could Andy possibly see in someone old enough to be her mother? You," He stared hard at the other woman, "are obviously mistaken."

Madeline sighed, understanding the young woman's hesitation in sharing the details of her life with this man. "I assure you, I am not. They love each other very much."

"Oh sure; of course they do. Who is it? What does she do? How does she know you? Is she another rich woman like yourself; preying on innocent girls?"

"Richard, enough!" Louise stood and glared down at the man she'd spent nearly thirty-seven years with. "We don't know anything about what's going on and you are insulting someone who has done nothing but show us kindness. I won't stand for it!"

"But Lou, this is insane!" His tone part way between pleading and bellicose.

"Love has been described as a form of insanity by more than one poet." Madeline offered quietly.

"Oh, riiight." He mocked.

Louise sat back in her chair and regarded their hostess. "Would you please tell me more about this woman? How'd they meet?"

"They met when Andy worked at Runway." Miranda had mentioned briefly that Andrea's time at the magazine had been seen by her family as an aberration and that the editor was not held in high regard. _But that was the way of business, and assistants; why was that so terrible?_

Louise froze, she knew of only one "older" woman…and she'd had always had the feeling that there was more there than met the eye. Suddenly the conversation they'd had at Thanksgiving made sense and she whispered. "Miranda Priestly."

Richard's neck cracked, he whipped his head around so quickly. "That bitch? Impossible."

Whereas before, with Richard's verbal attack upon her person, she had abstained from comment as she had not wished to escalate matters, Madeline had reached her threshold for tolerance and her voice firmed. "You will not speak of my friend with so little regard. She is a professional who leads the premier fashion magazine in the world and runs a media conglomeration the size of which you cannot imagine. She works hard and is determined to be the best; that she requires those she employs to also be the best only makes her a bitch to those who don't understand or are petty, narrow-minded, sexist _**fils de**_ chiennes." Madeline left little to be interpreted as to which category Andy's father fell into.

Richard's face had turned red and he hissed, "How dare you insult me."

"Please, grow up monsieur; do not step into the first parry if you are unwilling to field a defensive move." When the man did not rejoinder she continued. "They were not involved when your daughter was employed by Runway; indeed they only have just come together in the last couple of months. Nothing unseemly happened when your precious 'Andee', worked for Miranda."

Louise watched the sparring match between the two and couldn't help but be impressed by the other woman's imperturbability when it came to handling her husband. When he was like this it became such a trial and once again she found herself questioning why she stayed. The older he got the more self-righteous and attached to intractable dogma he had become; but she shook the numbing despair over that line of thought and returned to examining her own feelings about Andy and Miranda.

Together.

She just couldn't see it.

l l l l l l l

They had moments before finished eating when the door opened and Andy was wheeled in on a hospital bed that could very well have been beamed down from the starship Voyager. Lights blinked and a pump, which seemed to make the mattress move slightly, whooshed periodically. The head of the bed housed a console that contained a variety of screens showing heart rate, and at closer inspection, what could be brain wave activity; the separate, accompanying respirator was positioned towards the head of the bed on the right. The green scrubs-outfitted personnel who had moved her checked every line and wire, ensuring all was in place and before taking their leave, each checked a tiny handheld device against the screens at the head of the bed.

The three gathered around the bed and Miranda took up the position she'd maintained at St. Luke's, craving the touch more than her precious caffeine in the morning.

Lily observed, "She looks paler."

The door opened behind them and a medium height, dark blonde woman in pale purple scrubs and a white doctor's coat entered the room. The bobbed hair swayed gently as she strode confidently across the tile.

She offered a firm handshake to Lily as she greeted the room. "Hello, I'm Dr. Amelia Clarkson."

She nodded to Doug and, seeing that the influential power-broker/fashion queen was not leaving the side of her patient and apparently not about to let go of the woman's hand, sent a nod her way also. A delicate but strong hand absently swept back the long bangs to tuck behind an ear as she looked down at the chart in her hand. "Our team has reviewed all of the information relayed from St. Luke's and have assessed the scans just completed; we are pretty much in agreement with their findings." She looked up and met the eyes of the three who were all focused on her intently. "I understand from Doug that you received quite an extensive briefing of her injuries and the social worker you met with faxed me the report. Before I move forward, were there any questions regarding the information you've already received?"

After a moment of silence she continued. "Very well, our imaging scans were able to isolate two additional areas of concern; St. Luke's suspected a bleed somewhere in her intestinal system and we were able to confirm that it does exist. It's located in the upper intestine on her left side. We need to go in and close it. Also, we believe that the fracture to the 7th rib, because of its proximity to the diaphragm and the severity of the break, necessitates a surgical repair. We would align the break and attach a titanium U-shaped plate sized to match rib thickness to rejoin the bone. Also, to minimize the need for additional surgery in the coming days we would have a team work on repairing the wound to her face. St. Luke's packed the wound but have kept it from sealing until such time that it could be attended properly. Our top plastics specialist will ensure that there will be little, if any scarring.

"When are you planning on operating?" Lily asked.

"We'd like to wait as long as possible before we introduce the trauma of surgery to her already stressed body; my preference would be to give it another twelve hours at least but it's going to depend upon her. If her vitals stay steady and oxygen levels remain within acceptable tolerances then that's our target. She is constantly monitored and a change for the negative breaking any of the thresholds will trigger an immediate response. Our surgical team is in the hospital and on-call and an operating bay will be available for immediate use if warranted. Are there any questions?"

Miranda looked up from her study of Andrea's still swollen features. "Is she in any danger?"

Dr. Clarkson regarded the woman, kindness in her steady hazel eyes, "The human body within the first twenty-four hours after a traumatic event is always vulnerable to any number of unforeseen ramifications but her heart is strong and she is in the best possible environment…"

"So yes." The measured tone was edged with a tired sadness.

"Yes, but it _**is **_minimal. I've seen people with injuries far more severe survive and thrive; I promise you we are prepared for any eventuality. It is now a matter of simply waiting. I would suggest that you each take advantage of our accommodations and get sleep; this is a long process and it would not do for any of you to become worn down as it makes your bodies vulnerable to viruses. I need not remind you that if you were to become ill that you would not be able to sit at her side." She met each person's eyes so that they could measure her sincerity then nodded and exited.

They remained in silence for a bit, each contemplating the scope of the information given. Lily looked at the time, just after one thirty, and noted with a grimace. "Louise and Richard should be landing soon."

Doug rolled his eyes in anticipation of the brewing storm all thoughts of rest evaporating. "This is going to totally suck isn't it?"

Miranda merely shot the both of them a look. "I assure you, I have as much intention of escalating any interaction with Andrea's parents as I do leaving her side. May I trust that both of you will continue to support my need to be with her?"

"Of course." "Not an issue." They answered in unison.

A kernel of unease settled for the editor. "Good. I'm sure we'll all be able to conduct ourselves with dignity…"

Lily's laugh was sarcastic and her eyes danced with near delight as she regarded the other woman. "You've never really had to deal with a fundamentalist have you?"

"I thought her family was Catholic." Miranda recalled from reading that the term fundamentalist was reserved usually for Baptists and other Christian sects which generally looked upon Catholicism with disdain.

"Her mother not so much, she doesn't really practice anything, but Richard is an Evangelical or Charismatic Catholic." Lily eyed the woman with a sly smile.

"I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that particular term."

Doug shot a look over to Lily. "Don't be so amused by it all Lils. This isn't going to be pretty."

"Doug for crying out loud, I can't help it. That man has been nothing but a sanctimonious, over-protective, over-bearing, meddling asshole and don't get me started on his brother, he's ten times worse. Can I help that despite the seriousness of this situation that I might just have a tiny glimmer of satisfaction watching him run into the wall that is Miranda?"

Miranda raised her eyebrows and then looked to Doug to explain. "Charismatics aren't really fundamentalists per se, at least "_the_ church" would argue that sticking to the "true word" of their god as intractably laid out in their scripture and words of their infallible pope is not anything other than good old Catholicism. But the Charismatics tend to interpret the bible more literally and get into the concept of having a personal relationship with Jesus so will do things like speaking in tongues, laying on of hands, yada yada during mass. You get the drift, more hard core." He paused for a moment and ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"What it boils down to is that her dad sees the world in black and white; he's right and that's it as he's got _**his **_god on _**his**_ side. He's convinced Andy's walking the path to hell for saying she's gay, and will be damned for eternity if she acts on it or doesn't denounce it and beg forgiveness."

Doug was noticing as he spoke the stunned look on Miranda's face, almost like he was informing her that three-headed toads were running for political office after having won their primary; _which come to think about it, the similarities in absurdity were rather closely linked. _

"Since it's only been a concept to him before now her soul is still somewhat safe and he's been, well…" He considered for a moment. "…not accepting so much as probably convinced it's a phase. I think he's tried some stuff…" Doug noted a slight glare at the word and amended quickly, "I mean, he pretty much got Andy a job as a writer for the "Local" section of the Cincinnati Enquirer without her knowing it, all she had to do was show up to the interview."

The editor's eyes widened further at the man's audacity, and the _'Local'_ section? Andrea was well above and beyond that level of mediocrity. "I don't believe she relayed to me that particular detail, only the sum total of his reaction and her feelings as she tried to deal with it."

"Yeah, that was at Thanksgiving. She was livid. But that's been about it, he's been pretty quiet otherwise, which tells me he doesn't really take it seriously."

The older woman thought back to a conversation she'd had with Andrea only the week before. "So, he will see _'The Devil'_ sitting next to his daughter and…" She chuckled. "Should I expect an exorcism to be attempted?"

Both of Andy's friends laughed and then Doug sobered. "Seriously, I'll be surprised if he doesn't try to get you thrown out."

"Surely the man won't wish to disrupt his daughter's recovery? She may be unconscious but I don't necessarily believe that she can't sense in some way what's going on around her. She needs to feel loved and supported." Miranda was indignant.

Lily interjected. "We can hope; just be prepared, that's all. But bottom line, we both know that Andy is better off with you beside her; if he can't adjust to the fact that you're here, well, we're not budging."

l l l l l l l

Madeline had given the couple some space by heading to the cockpit for a check in with her two pilots after the unpleasant exchange and, she admitted to herself, to have a moment of her own to cool down. She hated men like Richard Sachs; _connard_, she mentally spat. She watched from the bulkhead separating the cabin and cockpit entrance as Louise attempted to get the man to see reason. Andrea's mother seemed to be the exact opposite of her husband which caused an internal shrug; wondering what such an obviously formidable woman was doing with someone such as he.

After another minute passed she decided it was time, they were going to be landing soon and she found herself grasping for something, anything, that would help make the coming confrontation between her friend and this unpleasant person less horrible.

The Sachs' both looked up at the same time as Madeline approached. "The seatbelt sign will be coming on soon, if either of you need the facilities, you still have several minutes."

Richard shot her a look of contempt and got up, striding towards the back of the plane. Louise simply shook her head. "He's not always been like this; it's just the last few years, since our girls have been old enough to decide for themselves the course of their lives. This year I'm afraid has been the worst."

"Oh?" Madeline prodded lightly when the other woman was silent.

"Andy came out to us about eight months ago and it's been a trial ever since. It was bad back in high school when first Amanda and then Andy rejected their Catholic faith, but this, he's taken it to an entirely different level."

"How do you tolerate it?" The lilting, accented voice gently queried.

"Usually we don't discuss it. I believe he understands my views and I won't have him going on about his. I have my law practice and a circle of friends. Richard and I will have dinner a few times a week and perhaps will go out once in a while to visit family or to an event, but… well, aside from our girls, I guess…" She checked her uncharacteristic rambling and left the rest unsaid, especially to this stranger, however compassionate and empathetic she may be; she really didn't know the man anymore and what she did know, didn't particularly like. "Anyway, that's not important. What's important is my daughter. I assume that Miranda will be by her side and will not be leaving?"

Madeline's eyes creased as her lips formed a warm, closed-mouth smile. She liked the pragmatic woman and she intuited that she was perhaps witness to her realization that her marriage may well be in its final throes; this softened her approach to the issue at hand.

"You're right; I know this is probably difficult for you to accept but know that Miranda, despite her reputation, is a very passionate, loving and loyal woman. Your daughter has found her way into her heart, something she does not give access to lightly. I can see you are a sensible woman, please try to look past the surface before you form an opinion."

The lawyer tipped her head in acknowledgement as the seatbelt sign illuminated; her husband, who she had been able to see out of the corner of her eye standing against the back bulkhead frowning and staring out one of the viewports, strode back and sullenly sat.

The descent was made in silence and Louise worked on keeping her own mind open. She _**would**_ reserve judgment because whatever was best for her daughter was all that mattered right now. Looking over at the man next to her, jaw clenched and body rigid, she found that she held even less hope than at the beginning of the flight that he'd actually be able to find it in himself to do the same.

l l l l l l l

Miranda looked up from her vigilant perch beside the comatose Andy at the chime of a text being sent to her phone. The device was located across the room, more than far enough away to ensure that it wouldn't interfere with any of the sensitive equipment connecting the injured woman with her lifelines, specifically her ventilator. But the editor didn't need to look at the message given that the time was now twenty after two in the morning; the Sachs' had arrived and the text was Madeline letting her know they had just exited the car.

She glanced across the dimly lit room, Douglas and Lily shifting back to wakefulness where they had dozed, Lily tucked up under the young man's arm as they half reclined on the comfortable couch.

"Are they here?" Lily stretched and took in Miranda's nod; the younger woman was beyond tired, her body shaking slightly from the waking and, she noticed, her mouth had that sour-bitter taste unique to a very short span of deep sleep. Her hand shook slightly as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the thermal carafe, glad to see that it was at least still slightly steaming, and then two more, handing one to Doug.

Lily then held a cup up and directed her gaze at Miranda who nodded and smiled slightly. "Thank you, yes."

All three then sat in silence, sipping at rapidly cooling coffee, waiting.

Five minutes, then ten, went by and the older woman drank in the tranquility of it, her flagging focus tangled once again within the rhythmic cadence of monitors and breathing machines. It was a struggle to rouse herself from her nearly hypnotized state; she knew she needed her armor and her wits, at least for a little bit longer, but both were worn thin by the horror, worry and strain of a very long day. As the door to the room began to open, admitting the parents of the most important person in her life, aside her children, for the first time in a long time the indomitable spirit who was Miranda Priestly doubted in her ability to rise to an occasion.

l l l l l l l

The ride from the airport was made mostly in silence, high emotions evidenced on the plane seeming to settle with the descent back to earth.

Louise pondered that the lateness of the hour and the overwhelming worry and frantic scramble to get to this city still teeming with life, along with the fact that they just weren't used to being up and functioning past eleven thirty, combined to create a sort of blanket of surreal calm. She hoped that she wouldn't lose it when she saw her daughter but couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't start crying and just not stop. There was a time when she'd be able to reach over and find strength in the sturdy countenance of the man sitting next to her but found that his presence was only adding to her anxiety. For a moment she wondered at what he was thinking and feeling, hoping that the first and foremost thoughts were of his daughter's physical well-being but no longer certain. She felt alone, isolated and very frightened for her daughter.

Richard was still stewing and his ire wasn't focused only on those who he believed had led his daughter astray but on the woman who was his wife of over thirty six years. He wondered what he could have done wrong to not have the kind of wife who understood that she was supposed to support him, not actively call him out in front of what was obviously a woman of questionable values. He had thought that her mostly silent regard of his positions over the last few years was an indication that she, if not agreed, at least accepted that it was her duty to provide a unified front.

It had all started with her response to Andy talking all that nonsense the past few months, that had been a surprise; Louise actually seemed to think that her supposed homosexuality was something to be accepted. To him that was anything but acceptable and he knew that once they returned home he had some serious thinking to do. But soon he would finally be seeing his little girl; he doubted that that free spirited party girl Lily and pansy-ass Doug could have ensured that Andy was getting everything needed and was glad that they were almost there so he could step in and make it all right.

l l l l l l l

The limo pulled up to the valet parking area and an attendant opened the door before Richard even had a chance to shift from his seat.

Madeline got out with them. "Your luggage will be sent to your hotel…"

Richard was tired of the woman and just wanted her gone but had enough presence of mind to recall that they hadn't actually considered where they were going to stay, let alone make a reservation. "What hotel? We haven't booked a stay anywhere."

"Miranda has arranged for a room in one of the hotels nearby."

"Absolutely not. We don't need her help."

Madeline didn't bother to hide her contempt. "You do not think you need help but don't understand; it is Fashion Week starting Friday, the bombing may have delayed it but it will still go on, there will not be a hotel room to be found in Manhattan for the next two weeks."

"Richard! Please!" Nerves frayed, Louise snapped out tersely. "I just want to go upstairs and see her, I can't take this anymore!" Louise rubbed her tired, make-up free face and turned towards the other woman. "I appreciate a place to sleep so go ahead, my luggage can be delivered wherever, it could be a Motel 6 for all I care, just so long as I know where to find it. If he doesn't want to sleep there," She turned pointedly to Richard and glared, "then I look forward to having the room to myself. You do whatever your pride is telling you to do Rich."

She turned back to their benefactor and dredged up a crooked half smile, reminiscent of her daughter's. "Thank you for all of your help, you didn't need to do it and I truly appreciate that you care enough about my daughter to see to her well-being." Madeline thought she saw Richard start at the dig and then was surprised when the older woman leaned in and gave her a brief hug before turning and leaving the stubborn man standing slack-jawed.

Richard mumbled something that could possibly be construed as a thank you and then hurried to catch up to his wife, grabbing only his carry-on bag. Madeline, in a fit of not so uncharacteristic impetuosity, flipped an elegant bird at his back before settling back into the limo.

l l l l l l l

Louise entered the lobby barely aware of her surroundings; Andy was so close she could not be bothered with something as trivial as the décor even if it looked more like the reception area of a well-appointed hotel than a hospital. She was speaking to someone behind a sleek tiger maple desk when she noticed that her husband was standing beside her. The person placed a call and they waited only a few minutes before large swinging double doors opened and what looked to be a nurse beckoned that they should follow her.

The nurse who met them briefly explained their daughter's condition and what they could expect when they arrived in her room. Both of the Sachs' silently prepared themselves and soon they were escorted through a gleaming white common area that seemed to be walled in by stacked flat screens monitors and alive with medical personnel deeply engrossed in processing the never ending stream of numbers and graph plot points. An alarm sounded somewhere that had a team mobilizing immediately and both Louise and Richard jolted, fearful that it had to do with Andy, but they were escorted to a door off the opposite side of the large room. The nurse indicated that they were free to enter then turned and made her way back out of the ward.

l l l l l l l


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Finally, everyone's in the same space; warning, this chapter is actually pretty brutal emotionally, at least it was to write. All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers; this chapter rated PG-13.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

The couple looked at one another then Louise pushed the door open entering a large room, recessed lighting and a table lamp next to a sofa creating a gentle golden glow. Lily was the first person they saw and Louise accepted her welcoming, silent, embrace.

"Hey, c'mon." Lily whispered as she stepped back and pulled Louise towards where Andy lay, looking small and vulnerable in a swath of tubes and leads. Louise sucked in a large breath, barely noticing the regal woman who sat to the right of the bed, hand still connected with her daughter's; glittering blue gray eyes tracking their every move.

"Oh my god!" She rasped out and hurried to the side opposite Miranda, staring, transfixed.

Richard moved towards his wife, barely acknowledging Lily and Doug's greetings, a welling of helplessness rising within at the battered appearance of his baby girl.

Louise's bottom lip trembled and she fought the tears for a brief moment until Richard's arm settled around her shoulder and the dam keeping all of the day's emotions in check finally caved into the pressure of confinement. She sobbed silently, so thankful that her baby was alive at the same time horrified by the damage evidenced on her body, and reached out to gently push back a wisp of hair that had drifted down and over the swollen forehead, mindful of not actually touching her lest she cause any sort of pain. She wished with all her might that the closed eyes would suddenly open and that she would once again see the delightful merriment that so often danced within their dark depths.

Richard's eyes reflected their own burgeoning moisture but he swallowed hard and fought what he saw to be weakness. His eyes traced the edges of the purple bruising that seemed to swallow half of his daughter's face, mingling with another concentration of discoloration that seemed to originate below a large white bandage on her right cheek. The steady rise and fall of her chest as it moved oxygen in and out reassured him in a way that nothing else had to that moment and he allowed his eyes to close while he uttered a prayer of thanksgiving to his lord and savior that he had not seen fit to take his child.

Miranda watched the pair, thankful that for the moment she had yet to be acknowledged. Louise was considerably shorter than her husband and slight, Andrea obviously got her height and larger bone structure from the man, but her looks definitely came from her mother and she was startled to realize that she was gazing into a window of what Andrea would look like in thirty or forty years' time. She purposefully ignored the projection of her own age in such a span, not wishing to dwell on one of the immutable truths regarding their unlikely pairing.

She returned her sight away from the path of unnecessary angst to the outside, observing that the other woman wore no make-up and incredibly did not need it. She was as her daughter, blessed with incredibly smooth and clear skin; the woman obviously never having worshiped the sun in her youth. The straight dark hair streaked liberally with white, was kept shorter, to just above her collarbone and it fell around high cheekbones, swaying slightly with each teary inhale. Through the tears which the woman allowed to trek unhindered, dark eyes were familiar, even if they held a slightly different dip and set. She mused that much of the similarity was due to the constant darting gaze measuring the whole of her daughter's condition that alerted the editor that a well of intelligence lay within. Just like her Andrea.

Miranda held steady her slight clasp of the unconscious woman's hand even as she continued her discrete perusal focusing next on the father. His height surpassed his daughter's by only an inch or two and his body was not as well preserved as his wife's, a slight paunch thickening his middle, slightly curling grayish hair thinning outwards from the crown of his head. His flinty green eyes stared hard at the rise and fall of her love's breathing and his lips seemed to move for a few moments almost as though he were reciting a mantra, or more likely, a prayer.

Miranda's eyes then fell away from the tableau of sadness and relief returning to the pale, scraped hand in her grasp as she watched as her thumb idly stroked the unblemished pinkie as she waited for these potential adversaries to finally take in her presence.

After long minutes of silence the tears finally seemed to run their course and the distraught mother inside settled allowing Louise's other aspects to once again assert their natural dominance. Her eyes began to take note of details other than her daughter, firstly the heaviness of the arm still placed over her shoulder noting that she felt suddenly trapped. She patted the weight and stepped back a pace, taking a look at her surroundings for the first time. A slight knock preceded the door opening and Louise experienced a fleeting moment of bafflement as what looked to be a waiter entered with a tray bearing a carafe similar to the one currently residing on the table near the center of the room, along with more cups. He set it down without a word and exited after clearing some of the detritus from items previously consumed. _What kind of hospital has a wait-staff? _

Doug offered each of them a coffee and both assented even though she could tell by the look on Richard's face that he had also noted the occurrence and found it just as odd. The smell of the freshly brewed beverage made her mouth water and the taste and warmth sharpened her focus. When Doug moved to refill the cup of the woman beside her daughter she finally gave in and accepted the fact of her existence then walked over and extended her hand.

"Louise Brownly-Sachs." Her voice sounded somewhat raw even to her own ears and she cleared her throat.

"Miranda Priestly." The silver-haired woman stood tilting her head down slightly to make eye-contact as she offered and received a brief but firm handshake.

"Richard?" Louise raised a questioning eyebrow at her husband but when he didn't acknowledge her invitation for a social greeting, opting instead to continue to look from his daughter to the equipment around her and then the opulent room, she frowned and shook her head. "And _that_ is Andy's father, Richard."

Miranda felt a tiny tendril of relief fissure through her, the parent for whom Andrea had most hope of accepting their relationship looked as though she would at least attempt to be civil. Her eyes cut over to the other Sachs and narrowed slightly as her lips pursed. "Yes, well, I am glad that you were able to make it to her side."

Louise smirked as she realized the diplomacy of the statement; not 'Pleased to meet you'. Oh no, no false platitudes would be expected from this one. "We've only received a very sketchy overview of her condition; Miranda, would you please fill us in on what you know?"

Richard's head turned quickly and he looked as though he was going to say something but bit it off at the last minute. Miranda ignored him and related the update, much like as the social worker at St. Luke's had all those hours earlier. When she was finished she looked at the stunned expressions on both and added. "We are hoping that she makes it another ten hours at least before she needs the surgery but the half-hour status report indicated another slight drop in her oxygen count…"

"So what are they waiting for?" Richard interrupted, voice low but abrupt. "Who's deciding? I want to meet her doctor, see for myself that he's competent. I'm not going to rely upon your opinion…"

"Richard, let the woman continue…"

"I don't even know why she's here, this is supposed to be restricted to "family only" and now that we're here and Andy's no longer alone I don't see the need for the rest of you to stay." His words were dispatched with a casual kind of arrogance, placating yet dismissive. "Louise will call you when necessary to let you know how she's doing." He finished and turned back to regard his daughter, expecting that his bidding be carried out without further discussion.

Miranda, after several seconds of stunned silence at the man's blatant ignorance of current events, looked first at Lily who was standing there with a satisfied smirk on her face. Miranda quirked an eyebrow at her and then dipped her head at Doug, allowing him, should he choose, as the primary medical proxy, the opportunity of first rebuttal.

Doug cleared his throat and stood, stretching briefly before shaking his head. Miranda noted that the entire byplay was not missed by Mrs. Sachs and wondered at her take on her husband's declaration.

"Mr. Sachs, I think we need to talk."

Richard turned and eyed the young man critically; he'd never liked him, always feeling that something was off about the boy when he was younger. "Well? What is it?"

Douglas shook off the uncomfortable feeling he'd always had around Andy's father, for as long as he had been Andy's friend the man had looked at him like he was somehow less of a human being; when he was a kid it used to really bother him, had found that he could never measure up when in his presence so oftentimes would have trouble speaking without stumbling over his words. But he was an adult now, trusted with his best friend's very life and he refused to give the man before him the power to tear him down.

"I don't believe you understand the scope of the situation. Andy had set in place about three months ago a medical power of attorney that legally specified that should she be unable to decide for herself that you and her mom were not to be her guardians, designating that power to both myself and then Lily."

Richard gaped and his voice reflected his incredulous shock and confusion, barely above a whisper, almost like he was doing his thinking out loud. "Excuse me? That can't be right." Then he turned and his voice firmed. "You're lying. Why would she do something like that?"

Miranda held her tongue even as she thought venomously, _because you, sir, are a right wanker_.

Louise couldn't help the slight gasp that escaped, remembering just what had precipitated the change; Andy had been assigned an article on living wills and medical proxies and had indicated to her that she had done extensive research. _Apparently firsthand_.

She had to force herself to let go of her first inclination towards hurt feelings, a stab of betrayal at not being trusted. She visualized her daughter, how honest and truthful she was with her, her hugs at Thanksgiving were sincere; Andy truly loved her and she knew she respected her even if she had been withdrawing. She pondered; _**why**__ had Andy been withdrawing? _After several seconds the answer, which she really already knew but hadn't wanted to really think about, surfaced. _So as not to put me in the middle between her and her father._ This realization then led to further consideration of just how her daughter's mind worked.

_What would I be going through right now if I was the one with the medical proxy but she had removed her father?_ Because she knew without a doubt that this was solely about Richard and his damnable intractability. _I would be in a very awkward position. _ Instead she was more of a bystander in what was shaping up to be some sort of reprisal of a Greek morality play. The logical conclusion, when it arrived, flashed at her like a bright light in a pitch dark sky and she had to stifle yet more tears. Her child lay there broken and still she had managed to somehow make the path easier for her.

Doug's response to her husband brought her back to the unfolding drama. "I'm not. I have the document if you want proof." he moved over towards the back of the room to a mahogany counter inset into the wall, with a sink and small refrigerator underneath, and picked up a wallet sized card that was sitting next to Andy's New York ID.

"Here," the dark haired young man walked back towards Andy's bed and handed it to him.

"She had it with her ID. As for the why, you'll have to ask Andy when she's awake. Until then it means that Lily and I make the final decisions..." He looked over at Louise, at the sadness in her eyes, met them sympathetically and added gently, "That doesn't mean we won't listen to any insights or opinions you may have," and then back over to Richard where his voice hardened, "just be respectful and do not dictate to us."

Richard finally found his voice and narrowed his eyes at the young man. "I understand now why you two are here, but why is _**she**_…" he looked across the bed and all but sneered at the editor, "here?"

Lily spoke up. "Because Andy loves her and would want her by her side; I believe it's good for her, that she can sense she's here."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! They don't love each other, what would my daughter possibly see in a cold hearted…"

"Richard!"

"No Louise, I've had enough of this nonsense. And you!" He turned and glared at his wife. "Just like with that hoity-toity French dyke on the plane; don't think I didn't notice how she looked at that Amazon who was the pilot. It's disgusting, unnatural. These people have corrupted our daughter. Don't you care? You stood up for her just like you're standing up for this, this…" He hissed the last but was cut off by Louise's rising voice. They weren't quite yelling but as the room had been bathed mainly in low voices and near whispers at times, the normal to loud speaking voices of the pair were jarring.

"Shut up Richard. Just shut the fuck up."

Three sets of eyes widened at the rare use of the expletive by a woman who nearly always maintained her calm while the fourth merely looked on. "I'm tired of your self-righteous religious horseshit. I love our daughter, I wouldn't care if she was seeing a goddamned hermaphroditic leprechaun if they truly made her happy. I've tried to get you to see reason, I've tried to help you understand that your clinging to this extreme viewpoint would alienate you from the very person you profess to love. But it's pretty clear isn't it? She doesn't trust you and because of your crap she has pushed me away too!" She threw her hands in the air and moved to get nearly up into her husband's face.

Louise really didn't want to have this conversation with witnesses but supposed it was inevitable and struggled to get a grip on her emotions. "This hurts Richard; a mother shouldn't have to feel that their child can't trust her." No matter that perhaps it was done out of a wish to protect her; the lawyer's daughter still hadn't trusted her with the details of her life.

Her voice broke slightly but she pushed on. "So what's the point? What's the point of your religion if it's tearing apart your family? And it's not just Andy, look at Amanda! She felt she had to move across the damn country to get away from your…"

"I need to save her soul Louise, the bible clearly states that…"

"Oh hell no, I am not getting into a theological discussion with you right now on this."

"Louise you need to listen to me…" He was nearly pleading now, desperate to be heard.

"Enough." The single word was uttered with a cold, quiet precision that cut through the verbal devolution of the Sachs' marriage.

"I have been trying to be respectful of your daughter by being respectful of you both but might I remind you that your daughter is lying not ten feet away, in a coma, and doesn't need this anger poisoning the air around her. If you need to air this out, by all means, do it, there's an adjoining room right there."

She pointed to a doorway in the back of the room as she stalked closer to Richard forcing him to back his way towards that door and spoke in a harsh whisper that could burnish metal.

"But let me remind you of something before you leave us. Your daughter is lying here because she is a good soul. She selflessly saved everyone on that train because of her intelligence and desire to help. She put her body in harms' way to protect a little boy. Her body," The indignant woman's voice caught but she raised her head and held it firm. "took the brunt of that blast because she ran back, when she was already safe, to help another human being who _**she didn't even know**_." The silver head shook slightly as her voice raised ever so slightly.

"So. How. Dare. You. How dare you judge her! And how dare you speak of her like she has no mind, no innate intelligence, no worth beyond that created in your own stifling, limited, narrow-minded construct of an existence. You claim that you are behaving in such a deplorable manner because you _**love **_her? Hardly;" she spat and then lowered her voice to its most intimidating, "you want to control her and you have the convenient institution of a religion that props you up and encourages your arrogance and your pride because they rely upon your complicity in their relentless pursuit of power."

She had now backed the man up to the threshold to the adjoining suite then relented, looked at his wife and plainly stated, indignation and anger having bled themselves out. "I love your daughter. The irony of all this would be laughable if it weren't so bloody tragic as you are hearing it even before she. I don't need to prove anything to either of you so I will not jump through hoops, I will not _pretend_ to like either of you and I will not allow her to be spoken of with anything less than the respect she deserves. But you are her family and she loves you; I would do anything for her so I promise you, I _**will**_ play nice."

She caught the incredulous expressions on everyone's faces; haughtily raised her head and sniffed. "Yes, _**that**_ was nice."

Her smile wasn't.

"So I suggest that the two of you go into that room, close the door and come to some kind of agreement that will allow you, while you are here in this space with your daughter who needs your love and support, to be respectful of her and all who love her. That's _**all**_."

Miranda turned then, dismissal clear in her body language as she returned to Andy's bedside; the blazing fire that had seemed only minutes before to engulf the room retreating as quickly as it had entered and Andrea's hand was once again gently embraced by its soothing, steady connection to the living world.

l l l l l l l

Lily watched with thinly veiled delight as the Sachs' disappeared into the other room, closing the door behind them, even as she hit the stop button on her phone that ended the recording of the prior few minutes. She'd impulsively decided to capture the entire exchange while the Sachs' were arguing, intuiting that at some point the-editor-that-didn't-put-up-with-anyone's-shit would intercede, thinking that perhaps Andy might want to hear it someday.

And intercede she did, a takedown so glorious as to nearly give her goose bumps; she knew that she'd probably end up replaying it for herself, often, relishing the rebuke of someone who had been the cause of so many tears for both of her dear friends as the man had always been especially cutting to Doug. Her only wish was that she'd had video as the look on Richard's face had been beyond priceless.

Lily noticed that Doug was looking at her with an expression that told her he was aware of what she'd done; she merely smiled broadly, proud. "You're _**so**_ going to thank me Dougie," she whispered, "the next time you come over for drinks we're going to relive that little slice of heaven on earth over and over again."

Doug rolled his eyes skyward in an exaggerated manner but the twinkle in them gave him away. He stood from where he'd plopped back onto the couch as Richard and Louise got into it and kissed Lily on the top of her head then made his way over to Miranda's side.

When she looked up at him gone was the avenging Athena, her piercing gaze reflective now of a quiet sadness and bone-deep weariness. He would never really be able to explain what came over him next, it was almost a push from some ethereal force that moved his hand toward the seated woman, wrapping her free hand into his much larger one, pulling her up and out of her chair and into his arms. He wrapped her into an enveloping bear hug, careful not to squeeze too hard and just held on, all the while visualizing that Andy was somehow there with them and that this is what she knew the other woman most needed.

To say that Miranda was shocked by the forward behavior of the young man was an understatement and at first she resisted, only one person could possibly hope to touch the wall of absolute exhaustion and sadness and she was currently stretched out before her, unmoving, unseeing; unavailable.

But as the seconds ticked by she felt a warmth at her back pushing her forward into the respite offered. Unbidden, she recalled the crucible moment in her kitchen that long weekend when they had first gotten together; Miranda was in mid-freak out and Andrea was earnest in her desire to see her through it. The older woman had tried to run but Andrea was having none of it; she'd simply held on until finally the dragon's mask fell and then the healing tears with it; much like, she realized as she came back to her present, what she was doing right now.

"It's okay, I got you." Was whispered in her ear and in that moment she truly believed that yes, Andrea did.

l l l l l l l

Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty and thirty. Doug had returned to the couch long before and Lily was once again curled up next to him. Miranda remained at Andrea's side, although her posture had relaxed considerably as she slumped back into the comfortable support of the leather chair. Muffled raised voices were heard periodically but not such that they disturbed the peaceful balance that the three had achieved.

After what seemed an eternity but was really only a little over a forty minutes the door opened and both Louise and Richard emerged; Louise's eyes were red and swollen and Richard looked frustrated and angry. No one spoke but the editor took in the utter exhaustion of Andrea's mother and made a decision.

Louise pulled open the door and wearily made her way back over to her daughter's bed. She stood at the foot, mind working furiously to forget the prior hour and her husband's irrational and insulting behavior. She looked around her for a chair or something she could pull over to be close to her daughter when she noticed the impeccably dressed editor rise from her seated position, place a gentle kiss on the undamaged portion of Andy's left cheek then turn to consider her.

"Feel free to sit here; I am going to go lay down in the other room for a few hours, I would appreciate that if there is any change that you come wake me, perhaps us, if I can get those two, she nodded towards the reporter's dozing friends, to take the other bed. If not, you or your husband are welcome to use the other bed or, there is a sofa bed in the living room of the suite next door also."

"Thank you." The elder female Sachs murmured. "And I promise you, if anything changes I'll let you know immediately."

Miranda held her measure for another moment, nodded once then headed towards the couch. Louise watched as she laid a gentle hand on first Lily's arm and then Doug's shoulder, speaking too low to be heard. Whatever was said worked as both rose and then practically stumbled as they followed the older woman, gait smooth and elegant, into the other room leaving just herself and Richard to continue the vigil.

l l l l l l l

Pale lashes fluttered several times as sleep dissipated like a mist with the sun. Miranda squinted at the bedside clock but grumbled when she couldn't make out the exact position of the bottom hand; she pulled on her glasses and sighed, it was just after seven in the morning. Looking over at the bed across the room she saw that Andrea's two friends were still asleep; she left them there as it had only been four hours; which she considered, really wasn't that bad, and went into the bathroom to get ready to face what was, in all probability, going to be another difficult day.

Once refreshed and dressed in yet another comfortable yet elegant outfit that Emily had assembled she quietly made her way into Andrea's room. Richard was arranged awkwardly on the couch, snoring softly; Miranda spared him only a moment's glance, a small smile unkindly gracing her features when she thought about the crick he was likely to have in his neck due the awkward angle.

Andrea lay exactly as when she left her, although if it were possible, looking even more pale. The editor took in the older woman dozing fitfully next to her in the chair, hand stretched much as her own had, nestled between sheets and flesh, fingers lightly grasping that of her daughter's. She was loathe to disturb her but knew that this would be the best time for the woman to continue her rest in a more comfortable location so softly cleared her throat.

Louise started briefly, looking first towards her daughter, confusion evident on her face as to what had disturbed her. She then took in the silver haired woman standing at the foot of the bed, face carefully schooled of all emotion.

"What time is it?"

Miranda told her then offered that the other woman try to lie down for awhile. "I will ensure that you are notified if anything changes."

Louise stood slowly, stretched and absently nodded. "She didn't move at all, they checked her every hour and the last time said that if her blood oxygen levels drop another half percent that they would take her into surgery."

The editor nodded and offered gently. "All the more reason for you to lie down now, get what sleep you are able."

Andrea's mother stared at her daughter's…she guess she'd need to get used to the word… girlfriend… for a long minute, seeing in the gaze a shared level of worry, stress, sadness, devotion and love; she blinked at the depth, suddenly uncomfortable, then hurried from the room, ignoring the man still snoring on the couch.

Another hour passed in which time all was silent, except for the light tapping of fingers on a keyboard and the steady reassurance of the machines keeping the reporter's body on the physical plane. Miranda needed to keep her mind off of the constant nagging worry for Andrea's well-being along with the underlying unease that when she awoke, the young woman would send her away. Staying connected to her work was the only way she knew to keep the demons at bay. Still, whenever she had those seconds of down-time as she'd shift between tasks, she'd hear the words of their last argument, the quiet "Get out." tormenting her.

She methodically reviewed everything that had occurred the day before and sent out her recommendation that they push back by two days the beginning of Fashion Week. It would mean that some shows were to be double-booked or perhaps have less time allotted, but it was unavoidable, too many elements were still unknown and it would be foolish to push it only to have to change plans again.

At least the printer's labor dispute was resolved; her intervention had motivated both parties to quickly reach an agreement. That still left her dissatisfied; she'd never liked that Irv had opted to use a printer out of the country as more than once the issues surrounding distance, language and other logistics had negated any cost savings. The matter was placed on her task-list for future review and she moved on to a quick review of The Book. Nigel and Emily both were making the changes but Runway was still hers and she had final say; they had done well, needing only a few minor notes and she was finishing just as Dr. Clarkson entered the room.

"Good morning Ms. Priestly."

Miranda put her laptop aside, rose and shook the doctor's hand. "Miranda please."

The voices of the two women roused the slumbering man on the couch and he rose and made his way over to Andy's bedside. He looked at the doctor warily but shook her offered hand as they made their introductions.

"We're going to have to take her in a little earlier than we liked as she is not moving enough oxygen through her system. In a few minutes she'll go for another CT scan just to make sure nothing has developed but looking at her stats I'm fairly certain that we'll find her brain has not developed any complications; this is purely a precaution. We'll then take her to be prepped and I anticipate that surgery will begin around nine-thirty. Any questions?"

"How long do you anticipate the surgery will take?" Miranda asked, aware that Richard was about to speak and it didn't look like as if anything useful was about to be offered.

"Each team will work concurrently so I'd say perhaps two or three hours. The rib will only take about a half hour and once it is secured the intestinal tear will be addressed. It's not in the easiest location but we'll still be able to do it via a scope so she won't have a major abdominal incision; the camera will also allow a visual check to ensure our imagers haven't missed anything."

"So you'll be doing the surgery?" Richard looked at the woman like he was unsure he trusted her.

"Yes, the rib and the intestine; Andrea's face will be under the care of the chief of our plastics department." Amelia looked at the man and sighed; if ever a day could pass without at least one male doubting in her abilities…

Richard nodded, not believing that this woman was best for his daughter. "I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with this arrangement."

"And just what arrangement would that be Richard?" Miranda's tone was mild enough although Amelia caught a slight flash.

"How do you know she's got the proper skill to work on my daughter?"

"Because she's a woman you mean?"

Richard twisted his mouth but didn't answer and Miranda snorted but bit off her initial urge to gut him where he stood. "I'll indulge you as you probably don't have a true grasp of just where you are. This hospital is one of the finest in not just this country but the world. Only the best doctors are selected; Dr. Clarkson graduated at the top of her class sixteen years ago…"

The editor noticed the startled expression on the woman's face and smirked.

"… and has worked under some of the premier critical care doctors in the world, most of those years spent within this institution. She is now the head of this department and has been so for the past four years. She has a mortality rate well below that of the national average and has an exemplary rating. Need I continue?"

The man merely stared wide-eyed and shook his head. "Good. Now doctor, you were saying?"

Amelia smiled, pleasantly surprised by the editor, she'd been warned after all that the woman was a class-A bitch who was impossible to please; of course, that was by one of the most misogynistic assholes in the hospital so not a great surprise.

"Expect surgery to take from two to three hours then a half hour in recovery. She'll be back in the room in about four hours from now. We'll have someone bring you a status report every thirty minutes; but, rest assured, she'll be fine. We'll take good care of her." This she said to both, even if she was personally insulted by the man he was still a patient's family and her professionalism would not allow her to be rude.

l l l l l l l

"Miranda, you don't think we should only delay one day? I don't know how our sponsors are going to take two." Marion Jenkins an adjunct for another member of the New York Fashion Week board of directors who had to leave for a family emergency pressed the editor of Runway magazine.

"_**Ms.**_ Jenkins, unless we have assurance from the city that all transportation venues not directly impacted by the bombing are going to be at one hundred percent, which, might I remind you we do not, then it is not in anyone's best interest to be hasty. The sponsors are all in the same boat, half of their people are still stranded around the country and in Europe in the backlog of flights. Waiting until Sunday to begin is not just prudent, it is in our sponsors best interests."

Miranda sat back and rubbed her forehead lightly, glancing at the clock in the bottom right hand corner of her screen. Andrea had been in surgery for nearly an hour and a half; they were due another update soon and she wanted this video conference call, which had gone on much too long already, to be done.

After more discussion, with most agreeing with her position, they finally reached consensus to begin on Sunday. _Honestly, why that took nearly an hour I'll never know._ She pasted one final plastic smile onto her face and ended the session.

Since she still had a few moments before the next surgical update she phoned Erica to check-in; walking into the other room as she ended the call. "Erica, if whatever-her-name-is can't keep up I want you to fire her and get HR to send us someone who actually understands that a Godet is not a wheel of cheese. That's all."

When the focused business woman tapped off her phone she looked up to find the three people still in the room, Doug being in the shower, staring at her.

"What's wrong? Is Andrea alright?"

Lily smirked, "I now understand that panicked look Andy would get when she first started working for you; you are one scary lady."

"Yes, well, competency for most is not a natural state; a few careful reminders is usually all it takes for the ones who will succeed. If they don't then there are a million more willing to take their place."

"You just enjoy making people's lives miserable." Richard grumbled; his seemingly permanent glare deepening as he looked up from his perusal of the New York Times.

"What I do or do not enjoy is not the issue. I simply expect that the people I employ strive to be the best and have pride in what they do." Miranda responded with an even voice as she made her way over to the tray with the coffee and poured herself a fresh cup.

Louise shot a look over at her husband and interrupted what was sure to be another antagonistic statement. "Maybe it _**is**_ part of the issue Miranda. At least for me; it's difficult to make the transition in thinking where you're concerned. Andy would call us crying at times over the ridiculous tasks she had to perform and the frustration of never being good enough. She felt like she was an outsider, even questioned her body image. It broke my heart that she was so miserable and yet she wouldn't leave."

Miranda looked at the woman, considering. She could just ignore her but that wouldn't really serve anyone in the long run and it seemed as though Andy's mother was at least trying. A long, protracted mental sigh; the things she was doing for this girl.

"Regardless that our personal relationship is completely different from our former professional association, perhaps to one who doesn't understand, the tasks may seem 'ridiculous' but every item assigned to an assistant allows the one key element necessary for my success and thus the success of not only Runway, but now, Elias-Clarke; _**focus**_." She fastened a pinning look on the dark brown eyes so achingly familiar, yet not.

"Thousands of individuals rely upon my ability to do my job for their direct paycheck and hundreds of thousands more indirectly. Every moment of every day demands are placed upon my time from every corner so to request that my coffee be present and hot upon my arrival, that all of the various newspapers be placed at the ready, to have lunch brought to my office, to know that my children's needs are attended to, that my clothes are impeccable and ready for the next day, these may seem trivial, but it allows me to maximize every second possible."

The executive searched Andrea's mother's face for receptivity and continued.

"As for Andrea's upset over the demands of the job, I would hazard a guess that the majority of those calls were in the early parts of her tenure?"

Louise nodded.

"Andrea is a very smart woman, once she understood she became one of the best assistants that I ever had. Your daughter possesses a spirit that, while it may be bent and bruised at times, never gives in, never capitulates. She believes in herself and learned much when she worked for the magazine."

"Right; she learned _**sooo**_ much. It's more like she fell in with a bunch of fags and dykes who poisoned her mind to what's right in this world." The mocking male voice cut into the civil exchange between the two women.

"Better than to rot within the confines of a toxic prison." The whip fast rejoinder did not merit an increase in volume nor a direct look.

Louise however turned and stared hard.

"I don't even know who you are anymore." Andy's mother shook her head sadly and cut off his reply. "You are really behaving like an ass Richard. Andy is in surgery and here you are making this space into a battleground; what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me! Any right thinking person would understand that this is all just wrong! Why should I be forced into liking any of this?" His voice rose to a near shout.

Louise tried to keep her voice to speaking level but it was difficult. "Did what we talk about last night mean nothing to you? You agreed!"

They stared hard at one another until finally he looked away. "Fine, whatever, I agreed but it doesn't change anything."

Doug came out of the suite, fresh and showered. "Has anyone…" His voice trailed off as he noted the tension. "Uhm, is Andy alright?"

Lily looked at him, smiling, loving her friend for his singular focus. "Yeah, we're just waiting for the update."

The door opened and a nurse entered. "She's doing well still; as I said in the last update the rib has been set and that is complete and the bleed in the abdomen has been isolated and is now being repaired. The work on her face is taking a little longer as it is needing more than the exterior set of stitches, where the laceration went all the way through, to ensure no scarring be left behind so they've added an extra half hour to the estimated completion time. There has been some fluctuation in her electrolyte levels but we are monitoring them."

Once the nurse left the editor returned to her laptop in the other room, mind already dismissive of the continued unpleasantness with Andrea's father. She did spare a moment to wish that the man would simply disappear but accepted the futility of it.

l l l l l l l

Nearly two hours later Andy was returned to her room; everyone moved forward, reassuring themselves that she was in fact still alive and hopefully on the road to a full recovery. Miranda once again settled into the chair next to the bed and plugged her laptop in as before.

"I can't believe you." Richard hissed at her.

"Excuse me?" The editor pulled her attention away from her screen and looked up into angry eyes.

"That laptop, don't you care that using it in here could endanger her life? You really are the _'Ice Queen'_!"

Miranda's eyes flashed over towards the unconscious woman as she silently begged, _forgive me love_. "You are such an unpleasant man." She skewered him with a look much like she would if a wad of gum had somehow managed to become stuck to the bottom of her Prada heels.

"It is far, far beyond me to understand how your daughter can actually have turned out to be one of the most respectful, mindful and kind people I've ever known when her father is perhaps one of the most boorish, ignorant and least cognizant that have ever crossed my path."

The man was about to say more but she held up her hand, noting out of the corner of her eye that Louise had paused at the threshold to the attached suite, as she was intending to take a shower, and was watching silently as were Doug and Lily who had moved to the sink area trying to figure out the espresso machine.

"No, no. I'm not done yet because apparently my time in vigil of Andrea's recovery is to be spent as your mentor and guide to all things out of your realm; a position that will no doubt have your daughter rolling on the floor in hilarity once she is sufficiently recovered as she will know the amount of delight this brings me."

She noted a short bark of laughter from Doug along with an "Mhm" from Lily and continued.

"To address your concerns, I have already _**thoroughly**_ researched any possible negative effects that could be a result of using this so close to the equipment keeping Andrea alive. I've been assured by her doctor that emissions would not be strong enough to interfere as all of the machinery is EM shielded to beyond industry standard. You will note that I am _not_ using the wireless connection this close but that is purely an extra precaution. This is true also for my phone, it probably wouldn't create any issues, but it is kept across the room, just in case."

Her eyes remained locked with the still agitated man and her voice slipped into a hard-edged whisper. "So, now, I am only going to say this once. Unless you have something nice to say or if you have a question that you are able to phrase in a civilized manner… Shut. Up. I am quite done with you and will no longer acknowledge further ignorance spouted from your person."

With that the indignant woman sat gracefully back into her chair, adjusted her laptop and resumed her work, ignoring the man who still stood shooting daggers.

"Listen, I don't have to take this from you."

"Mr. Sachs!" Doug's voice sliced into the air at the same time as a shrill beeping overrode all of the drama, responding to the sudden tremors shaking the young woman's body.

Miranda's panicked "Andrea!" was lost in a cacophony of motion as a scrubs-adorned horde burst into the room.

Miranda stepped out of the way quickly, Louise now at her side.

"What's going on?" Miranda asked in a strangled voice.

"Her potassium levels are dropping; we need to get her leveled out."

Everyone in the room could only watch helplessly as medicine was pushed into her IV and adjustments were made to the respirator, they worked in a well-choreographed dance but all in the room could tell that their frustration was mounting. A long steady beep spurred the team into a more frenzied state and the door burst open as Dr. Clarkson pushed into the fray.

"She's arresting! Start compressions; bring that cart over here!"

"Levels are balancing."

"Her heart's still not beating."

"Paddles."

"Charging!"

"Clear!"

At the sudden jolt Miranda felt as though someone sent a shock of electricity through her own system and she stood trembling; grasping tightly to the hands of the woman next to her.

Nothing. Paddles were raised, the unit charging.

"Come on damn it; you're not a quitter." She muttered under her breath followed by an internal pleading, _Please, love; don't, you can't!_ All breathing was then suspended, as she waited upon a precipice, life or death, joy or endless sorrow. Seconds pulled at the fabric of time, stretching, distorting, elongating into a torturous waiting.

Then.

Finally.

The familiar rhythmic beeping.

The silver head dropped like a deflated inner-tube, relief cascading into a numbing shock at what might have been. And then she found arms around her, squeezing, the woman who gave birth to her precious love, sobbing. All she could do was hold on and give comfort; an unlikely anchor although when she thought about it, not really so. Reflections, refractions, permutations of an emotional experience defined as love. Both loved the woman with a ferocity unmatched, merely different aspects; flesh-of-flesh and lover-savior.

l l l l l l l

Dr. Amelia Clarkson shook her hands out in front of her to bleed some of the extra adrenalin out and forced a level of calm as she turned from her now stable patient and met the eyes of five individuals in various states of upset.

The perpetual glower of gray-green, now brimming with liquid, anger simmering; she did not doubt that he was now silently projecting blame at herself and her team as she could feel his enmity from where she stood.

Soft, compassionate green, hand shaking still as he pushed back a mop of black hair falling over a pale brow and then swiped at several tears that had broken free.

Anguished dark brown, nearly black; disbelief in the surreal scene keeping her eyes dry and darting.

Movement brought her focus on the two women closest as the shorter had stepped away from the other, frayed and sodden tissue dabbing at eyes she had no doubt her patient mirrored.

And finally, the electric penetrating blue of what many in the gossip rags had declared a demon, staring intently at her charge as if willing the girl to remain with the living.

And who knows, maybe she could; so often the collective focus of loved-ones seemed to make a difference, she'd just about seen it all and didn't doubt the existence of things beyond what were currently understood.

The doctor cleared her throat and didn't wait for questions.

"She's stable now. We were concerned about the electrolyte balance and had been closely watching it; that was the first alarm you heard, it created a drop in blood pressure and then an irregular beat. Her heart then stopped for a very brief period of time; there should be absolutely no brain damage from the stoppage."

"Can this happen again?" Louise's voice was still strained and shaky.

"I don't believe it will, we've administered what was required to counteract the imbalance and that usually will take care of it. Every hour forward is a step in her becoming stronger; we are thinking though that we want her to breathe on her own sooner rather than later but won't remove the respirator until sedation is ended. The damage to her lungs from the blast was assessed initially as moderate however with our more detailed scans we've determined it's not as extensive. Her brain swelling has reduced greatly and now that the rib has been secured we are going to look at withdrawing the medication keeping her sedated beginning tomorrow morning."

"So she could actually be awake tomorrow?" Doug let out a sudden sigh of relief.

"Perhaps; it will take a bit of time as we'll remove the drugs gradually starting early tomorrow but oftentimes after a trauma the human body decides it needs more time, so the actual timing is not something I am really able to say."

The group asked several more questions although Amelia noted that the father remained silent and when the questions were exhausted she offered reassurance; what they had just witnessed had been very traumatic and for not the first time she questioned the liberal access these suites afforded.

"All I can say is be strong, continue to be here for her, talk to her and trust that she's in the best possible hands; she _**will **_pull through this."

With that the doctor exited the room leaving a sudden overwhelming quiet as the magnitude of what had just occurred sank in.

Richard sat hard on the sofa staring at his hands and Lily turned on him. "That scared the shit out of me, so help me Mr. Sachs, I don't want it to happen again!"

He looked up, dazed. "You're not blaming me are you?"

"It didn't help. Your constant negativity is poisoning the air."

Doug looked over at Lily and nodded, bringing all of the sternness he could muster into his expression. "One more nasty word to anyone and I will ask you to leave." His manner was quiet, speaking with a sincerity that left little doubt.

"You wouldn't kick her own father out of her room!"

Doug continued firmly. "Yes, I would and will if you continue to create an environment around your daughter that is detrimental to her healing."

The two men stared at one another for several seconds then Doug prodded. "Do you understand?"

The defeated man nodded and leaned back into the sofa, covering his eyes. Louise had made no move to defend her husband, understanding the necessity; she settled into a chair opposite Miranda and continued the waiting once again, all thoughts of showers and personal comfort forgotten.

l l l l l l l


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I probably won't be able to update again until Thursday or Friday as I have some pressing deadlines in the next couple of days. But the next two chapters are written, all I have to do is final cleanup so they will be forthcoming! Thank you again for all of your excellent feedback I have been amazed at the response to this story. All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers; although it bears repeating that I'm making no money off of this.

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

The always implacable editor found she was quite unable to work, focus shattered; she abandoned her laptop even though her now idle state only invited a plague of worry and sorrow to nest in her conflicted thoughts.

_I almost lost her…my last words to her were for her to leave…will she forgive me? _ _I've already forgiven her; I understand better what she was trying to say I was just so damn frustrated by her stubborn refusal to listen._

Her eyes flicked up from where they had rested on their joined hands to watch the steady rise and fall then moved towards the room, looking at the man who had been so, so… she didn't have a word really to discuss the depths of ignorance that the man possessed. Lily, mercurial, loyal, she'd hit the nail on the head with him; the editor was used to dealing with some phenomenal male egos but never one so maddeningly self-righteous. It was actually baffling.

Much like Andrea's insistence on paying her own way, which she still thought ridiculous; there was no way she could keep up with Miranda's wealth, so why make an issue? Why was it necessary that she try and barring that, refuse to accept what was so freely offered?

_An argument over money; how absolutely not important, especially now; I almost lost her! And our final words to one another would have been in anger? _ But an argument over something so trivial was exactly what had driven her to days of bewildered sadness, fearing that Andrea would decide it just wasn't worth it, that her "commitment phobic" lover who was nearly twice her age was just not worth it.

The fear was still there, gnawing steadily at the frayed wires of her composure. Perhaps it was good that Richard was such an ass, it allowed her an opportunity to release some of the berserker that was clawing its way around inside.

She contemplated the bigger picture of the situation; confined to a room with two people who before yesterday did not know of her involvement with their daughter. They'd both thought there was to be plenty of time to ease the Sachs' into it; that the only threat had been a vindictive co-worker and a rabid press. Even then, she wouldn't have had to meet them for a while; and a long while, if truth be told, would have been her preference.

But that wasn't to be, and faced with the reality she looked for the good to be found. This time with Andrea's parents was allowing for a greater understanding. She felt the awareness of the "why" flutter at the edges of her perception, the root perhaps of Andrea's inability to accept that she wanted to give her things.

Miranda had long ago reconciled that money was a tool, she had no attachment to it, yes it allowed her to live as she wished and she had more than she knew what to do with but she didn't give it any particular power over her. The power dynamic in society often dictated that the ones with the money retained the most power, but this wasn't necessarily always true because there was still an element of choice involved; a person with money only had power over you if you allowed them that privilege. She'd learned that at the age of eighteen and had never relinquished the lesson.

The realization dawned on the contemplative woman; Richard had molded his child in more ways than one. In his bluster he gave away his power to everyone, in his insecurity he hammered in misconceptions, many of which were rejected, but some were more subtle, cast into soft clay and fired, hardened, hidden perhaps but set to surface at the most inconvenient times.

Somewhere along the line her Andrea was told she was only worth that which she was able to contribute and if an imbalance was present that she was in essence prostituting herself if she chose to accept the inequity.

An even deeper loathing for the man bubbled to the surface, w_eak bastard; _she had to nearly grasp the arms of the chair to resist the impulse to fly over to him and slap him hard across the face. But that wouldn't do, no, violence, doing physical harm as the result of anger; that was not what she had built herself to be. So instead the driven woman focused on her breathing, on calming the dragon and letting go the lingering doubts regarding Andrea's desire to still be with her; freeing her to replace the negativity with love and once again visualizing the all-important healing.

l l l l l l l

Someone had turned on the television and the large flat screen mounted on the wall was tuned to one of the national news programs.

"Sources have now identified the Angel of the Broadway line as Andrea Sachs, twenty-eight, of the Upper West Side…"

All eyes suddenly became riveted to the images flashing, of subway riders surfacing, emergency workers and vehicles as the voice over continued.

"Anita Jimenez was on the same train as Ms. Sachs and described how the brave woman had saved her little boy, Joshua."

"…He had dropped his Spiderman doll and wouldn't come with me. I could barely keep him from climbing back up on the train as I had my baby, Marbella, and just couldn't. I saw a shadowy figure that was already away from the train turn around, running back to us and the next thing I knew the woman who I would see every morning, who I know now goes by Andy, was skidding up to us, sliding on the muddy ground between the tracks trying to keep her footing as Bud started screaming that whatever was on the train was doing something.

Andy grabbed Joshua while Bud started running with me, keeping my balance, I wouldn't have made it without him." The woman wiped tears away and continued.

"Joshua kept struggling, and I was looking back and could see she had to keep stopping and picking him up, finally, Bud got us to the bend then went back. He put the flashlight on her and then at her feet so she could see and ran back to help her. Joshua was finally staying still and Andy was almost…" She broke into a sob suddenly and the anchor patted her hand and told her to take her time. After several inhales the woman continued. "… someone pulled me back keeping me from running towards them, then it was like the world ended, it was a boom so loud and stuff was flying everywhere, I could hear it hitting the walls away from us. I saw Bud, he had fallen back but he just sprang up and ran for them. Once again I tried to go but this other guy wouldn't let me and then the worst sound, worse than the explosion, the ceiling caved in and then nothing..." The tears were falling constantly but she choked out, "all I could do was pray…pray they weren't crushed, that my little boy wasn't dead!"

"Thank you Ms. Jimenez…"

Doug turned down the sound and everyone in the room stayed silent. It was one thing to have heard a clinical accounting of the incident, quite another from someone who was there. Then more mention of Andy and the volume was once again raised.

"…is a reporter for the New York Daily Mirror. Before that she worked as an assistant to Miranda Priestly at Runway Magazine. We've tried to contact both Greg Hill, her managing editor at the Mirror and Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of Runway magazine and board chair of Elias-Clarke Publications to get comments but have been unable to reach both. She's a graduate of Northwestern University and originally from Cincinnati, Ohio. We understand her parents arrived early this morning and are currently at her bedside at New York-Presbyterian Hospital. Stay with us as we work on this developing story."

Doug clicked the mute button and tossed down the remote. He looked at Miranda and Lily shaking his head. "Damn, and so it begins."

Lily laughed but it wasn't humorous. "The irony would be fucking hilarious if it wasn't going to suck so bad."

Both Richard and Louise looked on in confusion; Louise tossed out the question with no little pique. "What's going on, what do you mean?"

Miranda murmured. "The slumbering beast awakens and has in its nostrils the scent of its prey".

Louise shot her a look. "Riddles, really Miranda? I didn't take you for one who indulged."

"No, generally I don't but suddenly this has the feel of a Shakespearean drama. One of the pressing issues of our recent relationship, between your daughter and I and my daughters," she noted the surprise on both the Sachs' faces at their mention, _really was the concept that I have children so far-fetched?_ she thought indignantly before continuing "… had been how we could best manage the press storm that was sure to arise with discovery. Already someone at her work was spreading rumors, pure speculation, but they were jealous of her recent success and she feared that they do more than just gossip."

Louise still didn't seem to understand the scope. "Ooookay, maybe I'm naïve, but what's the big problem? The press finds out, there's a story and then it goes away, right?"

Miranda shook her head sadly. "That's was your daughter's initial perception, a week or two of scrutiny and then it would pass. But that's not how it works with the paparazzi, once you become a commodity you are as valuable as gold. They vie for anything that will sell papers and online hits, photos, stories, anything they can get and it doesn't have to be true."

She leaned back in her chair slightly and stretched her back which was suddenly very tense and looked at the now peaceful woman still unconscious. "But eventually the worst would have passed, and maybe it would only have been a few weeks or month; I am a public figure, true, but there are far more interesting than me and I have a powerful network that I pay well to handle the worst of it. But this, suddenly it is Andrea that has become the public figure, a hero, no less. And while I am in wonder that she is so…" Her voice trailed off in contemplation. "…so amazingly selfless and good I can't help the knowing that I have of the meanness that so pervades this voracious machine. Every angle of her life will now be examined and our connection, when unearthed, will only intensify the scrutiny; in effect, a 'perfect storm'."

The editor raised her head and looked around the room, measuring the impact of her words. "I already have my publicist working on this, Leslie is the best, but still, no matter what is done it won't change the fact that your daughter," she looked at both Sachs "and your friend," then at Lily and Doug "and now, by extension, each of you, will have to endure a long and frustrating gauntlet of probing questions, many of which will make you want to kick their teeth in and damn them to an eternal hell."

She focused then on Richard. "And I can tell you, anger only makes them worse. Each of us will need to be as calm as possible. Any outbursts will only make it worse for her. Do you understand me?"

Richard was still in shock over the earlier incident and now this? "I don't know why you're looking at me."

Miranda shook her head and purposefully hardened her voice, knowing that this was not going to help the situation but needing the man to get a hold of it sooner rather than later. "Tell me Richard, how will you react the first time someone asks you how it feels knowing that your daughter is consorting with _'The Devil'_ herself? When they question her integrity, inferring that she is only with me for my money, that she is nothing but a gold-digger 'whoring' herself out." She closed her eyes briefly and swallowed, nearly sick to her stomach, when she opened them again she noted Louise staring at her intently even as Richard's expected outburst tried all of their nerves.

"I would make sure that whoever had the nerve to ask something so disgusting would regret it!"

"Right. How? By shoving their camera back into their face or grabbing it and breaking it? Screaming at them? Punching them? You need to imagine every horrible thing they can ask and then remember that you love your daughter and that the only way you will not make things worse for her will be by remaining calm and ignoring them or keeping to polite answers."

"This is insane! If you really loved her you wouldn't put her through this. When you get tired of your latest toy what will she have left? Her reputation will be shot! If you leave now they'll never know."

Miranda bristled at his perception but ignored it, sticking to the point. "Believe me, I've thought about it, but that's not my call to make. I love your daughter enough to endure this coming media free-for-all and if she so chooses I will not abandon her just because it's going to get difficult. If she were to decide differently then I will leave, but it's her decision, I won't disrespect her by removing her power of choice. But remember, our relationship is now but one facet, Andrea is a story unto herself and it will be intense as the press vies with one another to get that story; my leaving would not change that."

Richard sat back, ignoring the second half of the woman's statement and looked at her, deciding then and there that if it were as simple as his daughter deciding to leave the bitch then he would wait until she was awake and help her make the right choice. He would bide his time.

Miranda noted the self-satisfied smirk and wanted to wipe it off his face but once again resisted the impulse. Instead she sent another silent plea towards the younger woman, _Andrea there is so much to say, all I ask is that you at least listen, please._

l l l l l l l

Somewhere around mid-day one of the concierge staff entered the room and handed the editor a small bag. Miranda had been silently attempting to do some work, exchanging emails with her staff members and accepted the interruption gratefully. "Your housekeeper, Cara, dropped this off, said it had been delivered late this morning. She said that they'd asked that you be informed that the person who'd sent it had requested it be delivered yesterday afternoon and they were sorry at the delay."

Miranda tipped the man and then turned to the bag, wondering why Cara had deemed it important enough to have it brought to her here. Just then her cell notified her of an incoming text and she stood, heading towards the back of the room. She paled immediately at the message, Cara informing her of the bag's sender, and leaned on the counter to steady herself. Louise noticed and moved towards the usually composed woman.

"Are you alright?" The voice was laced with concern and Miranda merely nodded. Her eyes settled back on her unconscious lover, wishing that they were alone.

"I, uhm," She cleared her throat and found she didn't know what to do, every molecule had her wanting to remain by Andrea's side but she didn't want to look at the bag's contents with the others so close. Lily had returned to work as she had to get ready for a gallery opening that weekend and had no choice but Doug and Andrea's parents were still present. "I'm going to go into the back. Please don't disturb me unless it has something to do with Andrea." Then she turned and walked through the outer suite to the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

She absently lowered her body to the edge of the bed and stared into the bag, a small box was contained within and a card was tucked in next to it. With trembling hands she removed both, setting the box on her lap, as she ran her hands over the familiar heavy weight paper of the envelope.

Finally she inhaled once more and found her courage opening the flap and drawing a single sheet of stationery folded in half. Her eyes watered as she took in the neat handwriting; Andrea had written this with her own hand, the familiarity comforting her like a caress. She scanned it once and not sure it was real, a second time and then, unable to bear the intense relief she let it drop into her lap as she released every fiber of doubt into a flowing stream of tears.

_Miranda,_

_You are not the only one who is not going to let the matter of a few days stop her from bestowing a gift early. _

_All I can say to you is that I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. I really messed up Miranda; the words, misguided, ill-chosen and hurtful were said in anger and fear. I have been so turned around by what I was taught growing up and the fear I've been having over this whole paparazzi threat, that I lost perspective and took it out on you. That is so, so wrong and I apologize with the whole of my being. I love you so much and only hope that I can prove myself worthy of your trust once again._

_With that said, please accept this gift, I had it made for you as it expresses how I feel about what we are to one another. The explanation of the design is enclosed in the tiny square of paper beneath the velvet box bottom._

_I love you. _

_Forever; please never doubt that._

_Your Andrea_

Minutes elapsed until she was finally able to muster the strength to rein in the uncharacteristic display. Ordinarily she would have chastised herself, she had cried more in the past twenty-four hours than she had in the past ten years. _All because of this impertinent young woman who had no pretense, no artifice and no agenda outside of loving me_. It was unasked for and unsought and yet, here it was and she had nearly lost it. _Never again._ She vowed, she was not going to let this go if she could help it.

Eventually she became aware of the unopened box, although now she truly had a greater understanding of what the earnest reporter was attempting to tell her a few days before. She didn't need a gift; the words, and the intent and feeling behind the words, were enough.

Opening it she found a round medallion about an inch and a half in diameter crafted from a metal that was burnished to near gold but she guessed by its weight was actually bronze. Throughout the intricate design there were elements comprised of sterling silver, the contrast and detail wrought in both metals, stunning. It looked familiar and she remembered something similar that they had used a few years before in a spread on sub-continental Asia and the region's influence in design; if she recalled correctly it was a yantra.

It was beautiful and she realized when she turned in over, custom made. The words inscribed on the solid brass back inspired more tears but they were gentle and she allowed them to fall without care.

_Power of will  
>Power of knowledge<br>Power of action_

_For my Miranda  
>Forever Yours<br>Andrea_

Miranda looked at the incredible intricacy of the sculpting, a true craftsperson had wrought this and she realized that it was something that had to have been planned some time in advance for it would have taken weeks to complete. She dug out a folded sheet of paper and affirmed what she had thought, a Sri Yantra.

_The Shri or Sri Yantra is a yantra formed by nine interlocking triangles that surround and radiate out from the central point, the junction point between the physical universe and its unmanifest source. It represents the goddess in her form of Shri Lalitha Or Tripura Sundari, "the beauty of the three worlds". _

_Four of the triangles point upwards, representing Shiva or the Masculine. Five of these triangles point downwards, representing Shakti or the Feminine. Thus the Sri Yantra also represents the union of Masculine and Feminine Divine. Because it is composed of nine triangles, it is known as the Navayoni Chakra. Together the nine triangles are interlaced in such a way as to form 43 smaller triangles in a web symbolic of the entire cosmos or a womb symbolic of creation. _

It was beautiful, simple yet complex. Miranda lifted it by its simple brass chain and placed it around her neck where it nestled nearly two inches or so below where her collarbones met at the base of her throat. It immediately warmed to her skin and she swore she could feel a kiss placed on the base of her neck as she settled her hair back into place around the chain as a feeling of well-being and optimism overtook her.

Andrea was not going to cast her out and the relief was so palpable that she found her head suddenly heavy. She allowed her body to follow its whim and lower itself to the welcoming softness of the comforter and pillow, card tucked safely in hand as sleep reached forward to further heal what had nearly been broken; her heart.

l l l l l l l

Miranda had been gone for over an hour and Louise kept looking at the door, expecting her to return at any moment. _I can't believe I'm actually concerned about her! _ She was seated in the chair on Andy's left side, holding her hand; vigilant.

She considered all that she now knew, all that had transpired. When Madeline had first told them about Miranda she resisted, her mind could not wrap around the icy queen of her industry showing even a modicum of emotion, couldn't see her fitting with her daughter. Andy needed someone who was passionate and available, willing to give of herself and not some cold-hearted bitch, she shamed at the sexist trap she had fallen into with use of the word, who would only string her along. The view she had had of Andy's former boss was shaped by her daughter's time in the demanding woman's employ and, she sheepishly admitted to herself, by the very tabloids and media that lurked outside even now, hoping for a scrap of her baby.

But miracle of miracles, Miranda let them see beyond the façade; she could have held herself apart, and in some ways did, although she intuited that it was more of a self-defense against her impossibly hostile husband, but not completely. Her emotions had been laid out for all of them to see and when Andy's heart stopped she didn't refuse Louise's sudden need for comfort from the one person in the room aside herself who understood how devastating a loss it could have been.

So, she was grateful, now in a far better place of understanding regarding her daughter's relationship and knew she would be able to support it no matter what. The age difference still troubled her as the odds were such that Andy would have to endure her own horrible loss at some point; that she wouldn't be able to grow old with the woman, but, she internally snorted, _look where I am. There's not much of an age difference between Richard and I and I'm probably going to end up without him_; so there's just no guarantees.

_Twenty-four hours, what a difference it has made, I almost lost my baby and I've found that I can no longer stand by my husband._ She shook her head again and squeezed her child's hand, deciding that she needed to check in on the editor, just to make sure she was okay.

l l l l l l l

Louise tapped lightly on the door and when she got no response edged into the quiet room, cold winter sun barely gaining access through the partially closed blinds. The editor appeared to be sleeping, curled up on top of the covers, but seemed to not to be in distress so she turned to go when a voice rough with sleep asked.

"Is she okay?"

"Yes, she is." Louise suddenly felt a little foolish but decided to explain anyway. "I was more worried about you."

Miranda had been in the process of sitting up and at the admission her head turned towards Louise, about to assure her that she in fact needed no one to take care of her; at least no one conscious. But she stopped the impulse; the woman was reaching out and had actually been a decent human being to her.

"I am fine. Well, I am now. Thank you."

Miranda stood, ordering her hair with her fingers and turned to face the door. Louise observed the stationery still in hand and the pendant hanging in the "v" of her blouse. Miranda noted the silent question and moved towards the sofa in the corner of the room, sitting at one end, a silent invitation to join her.

Miranda, still slightly groggy, waited for Louise to settle, remnants of a very vivid dream with Andrea still with her. "Your daughter is a most remarkable woman."

Louise chuckled, "It's still difficult for me at times to think of her as a woman."

"I know what you mean, my twins are only twelve and I find I still think of them at time as babies."

"That doesn't ever really stop you know."

The normally reserved features crinkled into a slight smile. "I'm beginning to see that. But I have a completely different perspective on your daughter, not a girl at all. Oh, perhaps she was when I first met her but that changed for me drastically one day after she'd worked there perhaps a month or two."

Andy's mother looked with a question in her eyes and Miranda snorted. "This is a strange conversation to be having with you, you know. But, well, it was the Chanel boots." At the continued look of expectation she continued. "You haven't seen them I gather? Well, they are black, baby soft leather and come to oh…" she indicated with her hand a place a little higher than mid-thigh and watched as the woman's eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead. "… about here. Yes. Combine that with an extremely short skirt and a lovely Chanel prep school jacket and well you may guess that I realized at that moment what an exquisite young woman she truly was. Not that I had any other thought about her at that time. I was very married then and I assure you am not one who chases my assistants about my office."

Andy's mother caught something in the inflection of her words and asked boldly. "Are you British?"

"You are a very astute observer Mrs. Brownly-Sachs, much like your daughter."

Louise waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Yes, well, lawyer and all that, not much escapes me, well at least where other people are concerned. I'm afraid I can't say the same regarding my own life."

Miranda caught the inference and the countenance darkened by regret. "I don't believe we see more than we are ready."

"Small comfort, but I know you're right. I'm considering filing a divorce once we return home, I just can't see myself with him anymore; he's not the man I married and I've been avoiding it for a long time now, hoping perhaps it would just somehow improve."

"I am sorry. I understand how difficult it is to consider."

"Yes, you have had the experience once or twice, correct?"

Miranda saw no reason to correct the woman and merely nodded. "Of course for me circumstances were such that I did not have the luxury of prevarication, Jeremy was literally caught with his pants down by the tabloids and Stephen, the last one, well, it only took three years for each of us to realize the mistake. I actually think I knew before I married him but I was operating under some misguided sense that my girls needed a 'father-figure'. They have since assured me that they do not."

"How are they with Andy?"

Miranda related some of what occurred in the past couple of months and the difficulties that Caroline had first presented. "Your daughter was quite good with her, she treats them both with respect and listens to them and Caro responded to it once she got over her fears of being the laughingstock of her school whenever this should tumble out into the press."

"That can't be easy for them."

"No, but such is the way of things. I do what I can to be there for them; protect them. It's been difficult lately, since I've taken over the Elias-Clarke board but they know they are loved and are bearing with me. Of course Andrea has helped also, she's been spending time with them, even without me present and I think it's making a difference." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I think that in a way has made this even more difficult, to have lost her for myself is inconceivable but when I think of how devastated they would be, well…as it was they were trying to figure out what had happened between us." This last she hadn't meant to say; it had just slipped out, more as an afterthought than anything and she grimaced.

"What do you mean?"

"We had an argument on Sunday evening and she left before dinner. I hadn't talked to her since and…"

"Oh my God, this must have even been more horrible for you!"

The silver hair dipped in front of her eyes as she tilted her head down in relief.

"Thank you."

"Why?"

"For not immediately jumping to a conclusion and telling me she's better off without me."

"I don't think I believe that anymore."

"I'm glad. This has been hell on top of bloody hell. My last words were for her to leave my house; we had both said unfortunate things in the heat of the moment and I just wanted her to cool off, well both of us actually…"

"She gets that from her father."

Miranda stared blankly and said with all dryness. "Really; I never would have guessed."

Then they both laughed. "You're right, but whereas my husband has all of the self-awareness and finesse of a blind and deaf bull Andrea always calms down and thinks, puts herself in the other person's shoes then comes back and apologizes. She'll do it again, I promise you."

"She already did." Miranda held up the envelope and fingered the pendant.

Louise tapped Miranda's knee lightly. "See, I know my daughter. She loves you, I could tell she was hiding something, something important, and given a conversation we had at Thanksgiving where she proceeded to extol your numerous admirable characteristics…"

"She did no such thing; we hadn't even met again then."

"No, she did, your name came up and she defended you with much vigor. So yes, she's never spoken, or not spoken, of anyone else in quite the same way."

_Defended, hmmm._ But she let that slide eyeing her in a new light. "I think I may very well like you Louise."

Andy's mother smiled, and it was so reminiscent of her daughter that it clutched Miranda's heart for a moment. "Well good because I think maybe I like you too Miranda."

"Sounds like you are still withholding judgment." She said with a touch of reserve creeping in.

"Well, she is my daughter and it has been less than twenty-four hours, give a woman a break will ya?"

l l l l l l l

Around four o'clock in the afternoon Miranda looked across the bed at Louise and then stood. "I need to leave for a little bit; check in on my daughters. I'll only be gone for a couple of hours, perhaps when I return you and Richard would like to go to your hotel and get a change of clothes, sleep for a bit?"

Louise considered, Andrea was improving, as much as she did not wish to leave her daughter's side it would make sense for them to be fresh in the morning.

"I think that might be a good idea; Richard?"

Andrea's father looked over from where he was watching a news program, uttered a quiet, "Fine" then turned his attention back to the television.

Louise clenched her jaw and nodded. "When you return we'll go; it would be good to get some fresh air if even for a little bit."

l l l l l l l

As Miranda pushed open the door into the entrance hall a cascade of smaller feet all but tumbled down the stairs.

"Mom!" Both girls practically shouted as they flew into her arms.

Usually she would have reprimanded them for the unladylike entrance but simply held onto them both.

Caroline pulled back and looked at her mother with concern. "Is Andy okay?"

Cassidy let go and stood next to her sister, scanning the tired face, seeing the worry and stress.

"Yes Bobbseys; Andrea is recovering."

She started to move towards the kitchen, needing to speak with Cara.

Each girl took a hand and walked with their mom, noticing her gait wasn't its usual confident stride and that she didn't let go of them once they crossed the threshold into the welcoming, brightly lit kitchen.

"Hello Cara, it smells wonderful in here."

Cara moved away from the convection oven, having just finished basting a roasting chicken. "Miranda! How is Andy?"

"She is doing well enough for me to leave for a few hours, her friend Doug and her parents are still with her."

The four sat at the kitchen table and Miranda gave a very edited account of the reporter's injuries.

"What do broken ribs feel like mom?"

"I don't know darling, I've never had them before."

"What about a concussion?"

"A very bad headache."

"Stitches?"

Miranda answered all of their questions and when they got to the one they most wanted to know they leaned in a little closer to her, all the while feigning nonchalance. "So, can we see her?"

The editor sighed, hating the need to remove the hopefulness from their expressions. "Not yet girls, she's still in a place that does not allow children. Once she is moved from the Critical Care unit, then we will make sure you are able to see her, alright?"

"We miss her mom."

"So do I girls."

Cassidy looked at her mom for a minute, biting her bottom lip with her teeth as if in debate of something.

"What is it Cass?"

"Once Andy's better is she still going to be your girlfriend?"

Noting the look of surprise on her mother's face Caroline jumped in. "We knew you had a fight on Sunday and…"

"…and she left. You were really sad then. Will she…"

"Yes, it's going to be okay; I…" She hastened to reassure them, no need for them to be anxious about this too but how much to say? "Andrea sent me a letter and this on Monday, but I didn't get it until today." Her eyes cut to Cara and she mouthed a thank you as she lifted the pendant for both to see.

The girls pressed in closer, fascinated.

"Cool!"

"Wow!"

And then both girls exhaled in relief. "We were really worried mom."

They didn't specify as it was understood, all of it had taken a toll on them and Miranda once again sent a thank you to the universe.

Miranda's manner was subdued and she looked up at Cara as she continued to caress the pendant. "I am only going to stay long enough to have dinner and gather a few things. Do you have any obligations that would keep you from remaining with the girls?" Even though the housekeeper had an apartment on the uppermost level she didn't want to assume.

"No, mother is doing well, it's not a problem."

"Good, thank you."

l l l l l l l

The taxi pulled under the awning of the stately hotel and both Louise and Richard couldn't help the astonished looks as a valet opened the door for them. Miranda had offered the use of her chauffeur and car but Richard had vigorously refused. Louise, not in the mood for yet another argument and feeling slightly overwhelmed, had not countered him and now she watched as if in a dream as they were presented two electronic keycards and were escorted into an opulent elevator.

The doors slid open directly into the suite and then they were left alone.

"We can't accept this, this is outrageous!"

The room was large, double the size of their living room in Cincinnati, terminating on one end with a kitchen area, a door that led to an office space and another to what looked to be a good sized bedroom. The other end of the suite had a large television mounted to the wall in front of a seating area and another door. In between was a dining area and a large expanse of glass that provide a view of the many tall buildings of mid-town, heavily shadowed and rose-tinged in the setting sun.

Louise wandered around, impressed despite the surreal feeling of it all; curiosity and wonder driving her to explore. The master bedroom, the sole room behind the television wall, already had their luggage arranged and opened, was complete with a comfortable seating area, walk-in closet double the size of her own and a master bath one could become lost in. She sat on the bed and contemplated the wealth needed to command accommodation such as this; what it meant for her daughter in a manner both positive and negative.

"We can't stay here Louise."

She shook herself out of her reverie and nodded, but unsure. "Madeline had said that there wouldn't be anything else available."

"And you believed her? Surely it can't be that difficult." He looked around for a yellow pages but gave up. "What the hell kind of hotel doesn't have a phone book?"

"Somehow I doubt that whoever can afford this would need such a thing."

He snorted and then remained silent.

"I'll call my sister." One of Louise's sisters, Tessa, was a travel agent, if anyone could find them something else it would be her.

But after an hour of waiting the news was not good. "Madeline was correct, the only rooms available are in New Jersey…"

"Well, why not? Call her back…"

"You don't understand, with traffic Tessa said it would take an hour and a half at least to get from the hospital to the room, that's crazy!" She watched as he actually considered it then dismissed him. "I'm going to get a shower and then some sleep; you do whatever you feel you must." The implication that she was staying rather clear.

l l l l l l l

Miranda sat alone in the room next to Andrea's bed, enjoying the solitude. Doug was in the other room working on his laptop and aside from the machines, it was very quiet. She had work she should be doing but for the moment was content, knowing that Andrea still loved her and wanted to be with her had quieted a good deal of the rampant worry she had experienced before the arrival of the letter.

In one hand she held the pale fingers, mindful of the tubes connected to delicate veins, while her other lightly traced the ridges and bumps of the intricate design of the pendant.

After an indeterminate span of time in which her mind wandered, she felt a sudden compulsion to not just be idle and reached into her large Prada bag for the sketchbook and pencils she had brought from home. Not that she wanted to forever be reminded of this terrible time but the peacefulness of the scene, the fact that Andrea still lived and breathed was enough to spur her hands to action with a grace and skill many could only hope to achieve.

l l l l l l l

Louise arrived back at the hospital alone.

Richard had called his brother who knew a lay deacon at a local church and the man had offered him a room that they used for the parishioners' relatives and family in need. Louise had given him a long steady look and bent her head; he was on his own, she had no desire to stay in a location such as that, not because of its supposed austerity or that it lacked amenities, but because it was not who she was. Of course the understated opulence of the suite wasn't either but after further consideration a refusal of the hospitable gesture was not the message she wished to convey to her daughter. She was able to look beyond the trappings and see what was truly important; to refuse Miranda's kindness would be a symbolic refusal of her daughter's choice in a companion.

She walked quietly back into the room, it was late, the lights were dimmed and Doug was nowhere to be seen; Miranda was slouched slightly in her chair, asleep. She removed her coat and hung it in a closet at the back of the room then grabbed her own laptop case and moved towards Andy's bed. She was surprised when the silver head did not rise to attention, _she must be exhausted_, and moved to wake her and suggest she retire to the other room when the open sketchbook in her lap drew her attention.

To say she was shocked was an understatement, the nearly completed sketch before her was incredible in its accomplishment, capturing both the fragility and beauty of her daughter in this moment. She stared mesmerized at both it and the slender hand resting next to it, pencil held with slack fingers. Not wanting to embarrass her by being found gawking she moved away and settled on the couch, placing her laptop on the coffee table and making enough noise to rouse the sleeping editor who turned and met her eyes before closing the book and stretching.

No words were exchanged as the two women resumed their shared vigil.

l l l l l l l


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: All disclaimers apply, see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers. Things are progressing and we arrive at a long awaited moment. Please note that chapter twelve may take a day or two longer as I'm still not happy with it. For now, enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

It was Thursday, mid-day, just about forty-eight hours since Andy had been pulled from the tunnel. Miranda was in the living area of the adjoining suite on yet another conference call, low tones abrupt, sharp; Doug was on the couch working on his laptop as was Louise, who was also on the phone; she still had a law-practice to run, even if she had been cutting back on her workload in anticipation of retiring.

Richard had showed up around ten that morning, stayed for several hours and had then left again, not giving any indication of when he'd return. Doug looked up at the closing door; the room seemed to release a collective sigh of relief that the man was no longer in their presence although, he mused, they were all gracious enough not to mention it.

l l l l l l l

_Andy sat on a metal chair in a pale, orange-walled room, looking up at the sky; wondering why she could see the sky. There were fluffy clouds and she became lost in their patterns as they towered higher and higher into the atmosphere. It was calming, soothing, but then it changed, the air became less fresh and she felt as though she had no control in the breathing of it. Everything hurt here and it was dark; constantly. Her chest felt like it was caught in a vice, her throat like something was permanently stuck in it and her head, well, her worst hangover never even came close. She decided she would much rather spend her time in that nice open space with the fresh air and found herself stepping back into it frequently. _

_There was a moment that she puzzled over the entire sequence because she could never remember leaving that wonderful, relaxing place; one moment she was contemplating the clouds and the next she was immersed in the pain-filled darkness. _

This is really starting to piss me off.

l l l l l l l

Miranda looked at Emily and Nigel through the video conference link, they'd been on about an hour and she had just asked if there was anything else they needed before they finished; Andrea had been showing a few signs of movement and she wanted desperately to be back by her side. She had been abrupt to the point of nearly biting both of their heads off throughout the entire meeting and she just couldn't find it within herself to care. The discomfort of the two ratcheted even higher if it was possible and she skewered Nigel.

"What is it?"

"There are two more issues; but neither have directly to do with the magazine."

Her silent stare continued to drill into him and he began in haste. "The press has been asking about Andy, trying to find someone who will talk about her time here."

"Really." She raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Yes." Emily bravely toed forward. "But we sent out an email to all staff this morning that reminded everyone that they had signed an NDA as a stipulation of continued employment and that speaking to the press about her would not be seen in favorable light."

Miranda huffed. "A good temporary strategy but not one that would likely hold up in court; perhaps either or both of you would speak to one of the more reputable outlets, make it as bland as possible so others will not be tempted to travel off of the path of our choosing. Did you speak with Leslie?"

"Yes, that's what she suggested."

Miranda narrowed her eyes, "Then why have you not already done this?"

"We have an interview scheduled with both The Times and CNN later this afternoon; we just thought you should know."

Miranda continued to stare, widening her eyes slightly in challenge; honestly, couldn't they just get to the point?

Nigel continued. "Marion Jenkins called demanding to see you in person. She is _'concerned'_ that all of your dealings with them have been via video link or email; she doesn't feel you are giving the proper attention to the Fashion Week preparations."

_Prat._ "She may wonder all she wants; surely you are both capable enough to create a reasonable explanation."

"So far, yes. But…"

"But nothing, she is an opportunistic busybody; easily deferred."

"Yes Miranda, we just wanted you to be aware."

"Very well, consider yourself now accomplished in that endeavor." With that she ended the session and moved swiftly to the other room.

l l l l l l l

_She was in that dark place again and it hurt. Trying to open her eyes was not bringing any reward either, every time she thought she had opened them she was faced with the darkness again and it was making her crazy. _

What is wrong with me?

_She could feel herself straining to see into the darkness, wanting to know the direction for the room; that place with the refreshing breeze that could be breathed unencumbered, but there was nothing. She didn't even have a chair to sit on, although she supposed it didn't matter since she couldn't really tell if she were standing or sitting anyway._

_She had some control over her thoughts, but then not really, as it was all pretty jumbled but she had moments when she'd find herself thinking that this was the most fucked up dream she'd ever had. _And why the hell did everything hurt?_ That pain was there all the time now. It wasn't "my arm just got cut off" type of pain or "someone stuck a poker in my eye" pain; more like "someone kicked the shit out of my entire body yesterday" pain. _

Dammit!_ She still couldn't figure out whether her eyes were opened or closed._

l l l l l l l

The breathing tube had been removed earlier that day and Miranda, Louise, Doug and Lily all listened as the doctor updated them on Andy's condition.

"She's progressing well, breathing fine on her own and her vitals are all strong, it's just a matter of waiting now."

The editor was still not satisfied. "Why hasn't she awakened already? It's been nearly twelve hours since you discontinued the sedatives, I don't understand. Also, there are times that she seems like she's in pain, what are you able to do for her?"

"With the trauma that Andy's body has undergone I am not surprised that she hasn't awakened yet. It takes time, we're not entirely certain what the mind goes through when a patient is unconscious as most people don't remember, but, it does help to talk to them. A part of her is probably aware of us right now although odds are she wouldn't be able to repeat back this conversation."

Dr. Clarkson voice was gentle and she continued patiently, understanding how difficult it was at this juncture of a person's recovery for the family. "As for the pain, we have her on morphine and the levels are kept at a consistent level, we've determined that level by monitoring her adrenalin levels and other chemical indicators, she is not in severe pain. However, she is still going to be aware that she's injured and will have some pain but it will not be overwhelming. Once she's awake she'll be able to tell us where the pain is on a scale and we'll be better able to modify her medication."

Once the doctor had left Doug gave his spot next to the bed to Lily and Louise to Miranda who had returned an hour before from having dinner with her daughters. Lily had arrived just as the doctor had entered the room so hadn't had an opportunity to speak with anyone yet. She looked around and queried. "Where's Mr. Sachs?"

"Couldn't tell you." Louise tossed the words out with a nonchalance that fooled no one, the undertones bleeding sorrow and bitterness.

Lily shot a glance at Doug who merely shrugged his shoulders. "Uhm, when was the last time he was here?"

"He stopped in for an hour around four this afternoon but left when Miranda finished her conference call around five." It was Doug who responded again. Louise was staring at her daughter from the foot of the bed, hands gripping the footboard, leaning forward slightly, staring, as if soothed by the up and down rhythm of Andy's breathing. Doug shook his head behind the elder Sachs' back and Lily snapped off the comment she was going to make.

After several moments of quiet and watching her friend she asked. "Has she shown any sign at all of waking up?"

Miranda, hand once again firmly gripping the quiescent one draped over the sheet, shook her head. "Just a few twitches, and her lips may have moved once or twice, nothing substantive."

Lily turned back to look at Andy for a long moment then tapped the bed nearest her bruised and battered arm. "C'mon girl, don't be such a lazy ass, what're you waiting for?"

The editor turned and stared at the girl. "I'm sure she's just been awaiting your special brand of get-well cheer."

Louise snorted, the repartee seeming to draw her out of her funk. "That was mild; I remember when they were younger, these two," she pointed at her daughter and Lily, "were always trying to one up the other in trash-talking." She looked at Lily with a fond smile. "I was always afraid you two would one day just end up pummeling each other but it never seemed to bother either of you."

The darker woman just shrugged. "I dunno, we still do it occasionally even now, that's just how we are with one another."

"Just like sisters." Miranda noted.

"Oh?" Lily was curious, "Are you speaking from experience?"

But Miranda, still very much a mystery to the three others in the room, merely quirked a closed mouth devilish grin and muttered. "Perhaps."

l l l l l l l

_Andy felt like she had wandered aimlessly in the darkness for days; it was getting to be pretty boring. She had given up being frustrated by not being able to open her eyes and had stopped trying; that's why it was so surprising when she started to become aware of noises coming from somewhere. _Near or far?_ She couldn't tell so looked around. _

Still dark._ Although… She strained and pushed, perhaps the darkness wasn't so complete now? That means her eyes were actually open so she worked on that assumption. It was far away from where she was currently positioned so she stood, _was I sitting?_ Didn't matter, she told herself she was sitting so moved to stand. Then once she told herself she __**was **__actually standing she issued a command to walk. It seemed the more she walked the more it possibly became even less dark and the sounds, _voices_? She felt energized all of a sudden, _maybe I'm not alone here!

_It still hurt but she pushed the discomfort away and focused on what was good. The warmth that seemed to radiate up from where her hand swung loosely at her waist was good. _Definitely good. _ The closer she got to the increasing light the more it felt like someone was there walking with her, holding her hand. She knew that warmth, she knew that presence and for perhaps the first time since she had left that wonderful room with the fresh air and the blue sky, Andy Sachs smiled._

l l l l l l l

Louise looked over at Miranda. "Perhaps? You're going to dangle that little tidbit out there and then just leave us hanging?"

Miranda, usually so reserved, paused, _really, what __**has **__come over me?_ unused to sharing parts of her life with acquaintances. But these people had become a little bit more than acquaintances in the past days and they were Andy's family; maybe someday to become a part of her own.

"I…" She was just about to share a tiny bit about her sister when she felt a gentle pull at her fingertips. Her eyes immediately cut to where her hand joined with her unconscious lover, a look of uncensored joy flashing in her eyes.

"Andrea?"

_It was her name, _someone in the darkness knows my name!_ It filled her with a sense of joy; she wasn't to be banished forever to this painful limbo. With renewed effort she pushed to move towards both the voice and the light, it was much brighter now although it was all hazy, like someone had Vaselined her eyeballs._

"Andrea, darling, can you hear me?"

_Miranda?_

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." Everyone waited, transfixed, watching the joined hands for any sign of movement and when it came everyone spoke at once.

"Goddamn! 'Bout time!"

"Oh baby!"

"C'mon Andy, that's it, come on, we're here."

And a whisper near her left ear; it tickled but she found she really couldn't hear. She turned her head, crinkled her brow and slurred an incoherent and agitated "huhhh…ct…hr…?" then seemed to return to unconsciousness.

Miranda remembered then the ruptured eardrum, leaned over and repeated her words in her other ear as she squeezed her fingers. "It's alright Andrea, you will, it will heal. We're here waiting for you; come back to us, come back to me."

"Miranda?" It was faint, it was raspy, but it was Andy and it was overwhelming for everyone. Tears glistened and spilled, unhampered by tissues or self-consciousness and hugs were exchanged. Then they all turned and watched as the dark brown eyes fluttered open, then shut again as the brow furrowed as if she was unhappy with something.

"Bright." She rasped.

Doug hastily moved over to the light switch and adjusted the light over her bed to its dimmest setting; the young woman immediately released a long sigh.

"Mmmm…iranda?"

The woman in question caressed her hand gently. "I'm here."

The eyes were unfocused and her dark eyebrows drew together; her long throat showed evidence of swallowing. "Fuck…hurts." And then her eyes closed and she dipped back into sleep.

Miranda shot a worried look at Louise as she rang for the nurse. "I should say that would be an indication of her needing pain meds."

Lily interrupted. "I'm not sure about that; she says 'fuck' all the time."

Miranda merely hmmmed; then actually blushed. She tried to turn away before Louise would notice but wasn't fast enough.

Louise closed her eyes for a moment, having observed the reddening of pale skin so stark against the white hair. _Don't go there, just accept;_ _I refuse to think about my daughter's sex life, especially now! Focus!_

The nurse entering the room broke the suddenly uneasy tableau with Lily and Doug wondering at what they were missing.

Miranda mentally harrumphed;_ fuck indeed._

l l l l l l l

After the initial awakening Andy moved in and out of sleep and coherence; she had yet to form a complete sentence but it was enough for her guardians that she was making progress. Louise had texted her husband to inform him of the developments and he had come and gone; it was almost as if he could not bear to be in the same room as the others even if it meant not spending as much time with his child.

Louise was livid. It was Friday morning and Richard had just left, Miranda noted that the other woman headed into the adjoining suite and moved to follow her.

"Louise?"

"I don't understand him! How can he be like this?"

Miranda had absolutely no comprehension as if it were one of her children it wouldn't matter if the pope, the devil and the smelliest unwashed person on earth were all sharing the space with her; she would not leave. "Pride is oftentimes an insurmountable hurdle."

"You think it's pride?"

"I don't think it much matters what I think, it is what it is, to his loss."

"And to Andy's." She looked at Miranda. "Andy may be used to this, ever since high school when she started to question the church, he has been this way; even before with our eldest, very controlling, but I would balance it out. Still, to not receive approval and respect from her father, it hurts her. It's hurt both of them. Amanda finally moved as far away as she could while still remaining on the continental US."

Miranda wanted to ask why she had stayed so long with someone obviously so unpleasant but stopped herself; she was not one to intrude on another's privacy to satisfy her own curiosity so instead approached in a more oblique manner intent on offering a subtle support. "A fact for which you've still not forgiven him I take it?"

"I still can't believe I've let it get to this point."

"What's done is done. I've learned that it's innumerably more important to focus on what could be. You won't make up for her father but the greatest gift you could give your daughters is being who you are to your best effort."

"Yes, but… I don't know, that feels like I'm letting myself off the hook too easily. I've just built a life outside of our marriage with work and friends and allowed Richard his own life, reining him back as best as I could with the girls. I had hope..." She paused and bit back a sudden well of emotion. "I had hope it would get better; and no one... no one in my family divorces." She swallowed hard and looked up, expression firmer. "Although that's certainly not a reason is it?"

As Miranda maintained a respectful silence Louise pushed off the self-reproach and further pondered Miranda's words finding after a moment that she had an epiphany. "That's how you allowed my daughter in, isn't it?"

Miranda leaned back against the desk, considering. "I don't know if I have yet taken the time to actually look back on it as it's still so new, but you're correct, it wasn't an easy thing to let Andrea into my heart, for many reasons, but I believe that that indeed had a hand in it. After all, what example would I be setting for my daughters if I didn't?"

l l l l l l l

"Mom?"

Louise was sitting by the bed reading a brief. She set her laptop aside and leaned closer. "Yes sweetie?"

It was mid-day Saturday; Andy was still sleeping all of the time although there were moments of lucidity when she would be able to track a conversation for a minute or two. "Where's Miranda?"

"She's in the other room; she had a meeting she needed to attend."

Dark eyes closed. "Where's dad at?"

Louise sighed and the dark lashes fluttered open, eyes still seeming to have a hard time focusing fixed upon the elder woman's face. Andy studied the tense features and had so many questions but could only get out a weak, "What?"

"Your father is having a difficult time adjusting to your relationship with Miranda."

"What about you?"

Andy felt her mother's hand squeeze hers warmly. "If she makes you happy, that's all I care about. She's nothing what I expected; I actually like her."

Andy closed her eyes as several tears escaped her lashes and tracked her face. "I'm relieved mom." She felt the soft pads of fingers wipe away the tears and returned to sleep.

l l l l l l l

"So how'd I get here?"

Doug looked up from his crossword puzzle and then around the room. Miranda was on yet another call and Louise had left to walk around outside for a bit. It was just turning dark and he expected her back soon.

"What do you remember?" His pencil tapped out a fluttering rhythm on the now ignored puzzle book.

"I remember, uhm, I'm not sure exactly. Cassidy and I had gone to the theatre…"

"That was Saturday I think, maybe Sunday; you'll have to ask Miranda but I'm pretty sure you said you were doing that last weekend."

"What day is it now?"

"Saturday of the following week."

Andy was perplexed. "Why can't I remember?"

"The doctor said that a lot of the time after a severe trauma that memory can be affected."

"I think I asked before, but I don't remember. Can you tell me what happened?" Large eyes, brimming with tears, looked up through the thick lashes as her voice cracked. "Can you tell me how fucked up I am?" At the slight edge of panic heard in her voice Doug looked back at the closed door and wished for Miranda to step out. When the highly glossed mahogany remained closed he bucked up and told her; leaving several key elements, like her hero status, out for now.

"Christ! A freakin' bomb?"

Doug opted for humor, as morbid as it may be. "Yeah, but you were far enough away so no vital parts are missing; you're going to make a full recovery. Don't worry! See, not fucked up at all."

"If this isn't fucked up Dougie, I don't want to really know what it could be. I can't move my body much because my chest feels like someone is sitting on it, I can't hear out of my left ear, my butt feels like someone's poking at it and I got all these tubes and wires stuck in me; damn, one of 'em is even peeing for me…" She trailed off and yawned, eyes drooping, words slurring. "And my face... you don't think Miranda…" She paused for so long that Doug thought she'd returned to sleep but the next moment her eyes fluttered and she tried again to give voice to her insecurity. "You don't think Miranda is disgus… put off by all this do you?"

Doug laughed. "Oh honey, you have no idea. That woman has moved heaven and earth for you and faced down your father; you don't have to worry."

She yawned again and this time her eyes refused to stay open, she had all of these questions but it was so hard to stay awake. Like what did he mean; Miranda and her father; did they argue? But there was something else, something deeper nagging at the edges of her memory and it continued to bother her even as she finally gave up the struggle and fell back to sleep.

l l l l l l l

It was Sunday morning, Louise was not yet returned from her hotel and Doug was still sleeping in the other room. The doctor had just left after informing them that she was going to be moved to another suite in the next few hours, off of the intensive care floor.

"That's good, right?"

"Oh yes, and especially so for Caroline and Cassidy, they've been beside themselves that they haven't been able to see you."

Andy's eyes beamed although the rest of her smile couldn't follow as her stitches pulled and she had to back off quickly; she missed the twins terribly. She looked closely at her lover, this was one of the few moments that they'd had alone and one where she was actually conscious to enjoy it. The thing that had been bothering her circled just on the edge of her consciousness, tugging at her. She was distracted as she took in the tired features hidden beneath a thin layer of makeup and then for another reason entirely as her eyes caressed the softness of the white cashmere sweater with a tantalizingly low cut.

Andy reached shakily up and fingered the pendant resting on pale skin. It looked familiar.

Miranda noted the furrowed concentration. "What's wrong?"

The voice was shaky and weak. "Where did you get this? It looks like…" She gazed at it lost for a moment. "…but that's impossible."

Miranda smiled slightly and spoke quietly. "There's a reason it looks familiar, you gave it to me."

"I what? But…"

"Monday, the delivery person indicated you had sent it on Monday only I didn't receive it until Wednesday."

"I don't remember. I…" And then she looked up, horrified, and her eyes filled with liquid. The argument, her harsh words, Miranda telling her to get out. "Miranda, I am so, so sorry for what I said on Sunday…"

Pale hands reached out and two fingers were placed upon her lips. "No, none of that, it's in the past. And I know; you told me."

"How?"

Miranda reached into her purse and handed her the familiar stationery. Andy took several seconds to read it then looked up again. "You said you got this on Wednesday?"

A head nod in the affirmative.

Andy thought for several moments. "Do you accept?"

"Of course." Her voice rose slightly and she looked down at her fingers for several moments as she twirled one of her rings. "Will you accept my apology too? I should not have asked you to leave; I promise in the future to talk things through, not just react."

The dark head dropped back on the pillow and she sniffled. "Yeah, I do and me too."

They were silent for several moments. "I wish I could hug you right now." Dark eyes pleaded.

"It won't be long sweetheart."

"It seems like forever; do you think you could…"

Miranda stood and lowered the side rail on the bed then sat gingerly, careful to not bump her bruised body. Andy reached up and caressed her face, tracing her eyes, brow, nose and lips. Miranda kissed the tips of the fingers and then leaned in, placing her arms lightly around Andy's shoulders then squeezed ever so slightly.

"Let me know if I hurt you at all." She murmured but Andy just sighed and burrowed her nose into Miranda's neck, inhaling deeply the comfort found there.

Andy couldn't stay long in that position, the gauze bandage and the dull pain beneath it keeping her from putting any pressure on that side of her face. She pulled back far enough so they could look into one another's eyes. "I love you Miranda."

Miranda's eyes widened a fraction and she seemed to draw in a sharp breath; Andy was fascinated by the play of emotion, always so subtle on the porcelain features.

They breathed the same air for what seemed like minutes and Miranda internally rolled her eyes at herself and then whispered the long elusive words, "I love you too my darling; so very much."

They continued to stare and she felt compelled to say them again, this time louder. "I love you Andrea, with all my heart."

The happiness that shown in Andy's eyes made Miranda's muscles relax and her heart trip. Their lips touched in a sweet kiss that continued for several moments, interrupted only by the wetness that trickled down and between their lips.

"You're crying?" Andy was incredulous.

The familiar dulcet tone was halting and nearly rasping. "I almost lost you. I don't know what I would have done…"

"Oh baby," Her own voice cracked, heart pulling at Miranda's vulnerability. "I'm here, I couldn't leave you."

They moved back from one another, just enough for Andy to reach a hand up and brush away the tears. Blue-gray eyes, made bluer due the emotion, regarded her with an intensity that she'd only seen when they'd made love and Andy caved in and returned her lips to their soft home as she slowly stroked the tips of the fingers of her left hand along the back of Miranda's neck.

Lips parted and tentative tongues caressed softly, both mindful of not disturbing the stitches only inches away. "How long will I have to keep these in?" Andy murmured but Miranda didn't respond, instead continuing to lay soft kisses on lips and jaw.

Andy moaned.

They were so engrossed in re-establishing their connection that neither heard the door as it opened and Andy's father stepped into the room.

l l l l l l l

The sudden thud of the Sunday New York Times as it hit the coffee table startled both women apart.

"Ow!"

"What's wrong?" Miranda was immediately pulling back, inspecting the woman before her even as her mind silently cursed Richard's rudeness as well as his timing.

Andy stared down at the IV where it disappeared under her skin and lightly fingered the area around it. "Nothing, the noise scared me, pulled on the line I guess, pinched for a minute." She stared at her lover, the brilliant blue of her irises settling into a stormy gray; Miranda was not happy for the interruption nor with its source.

Andy internally sighed and in a subdued voice greeted her father. "Hey dad."

Miranda hastily dabbed at her eyes and then adjusted the pillows as Andy leaned back into them, lingering touches and caresses drawing a smile to both women's faces as a kiss was placed on an undamaged cheek before she slid off the bed and back into her chair.

Richard stood and moved to the side opposite Miranda and tried his best to ignore her. "Hey, how are you feeling?" His voice was a strained mix of relief and consternation that confused Andy.

"Everything still hurts but it's better, I don't feel like I want to just sleep all the time." She swallowed heavily and was relieved when a plastic cup of water was slipped into her hand. She pulled at the bent straw and shot Miranda a grateful nod and a slight curve of her lip into a smile. "My throat's still sore from that tube being in it. I'm glad I wasn't awake for that…" Her voice trailed off and she waited for her father to say something, anything. Richard had been unusually quiet in the few times Andy could recall his presence since awakening two days prior.

Richard watched as his daughter's hand unconsciously stroked Miranda's where they were joined on the bed. He was still smarting from the rebuke of their last encounter…but with its memory was forced to recall the screaming alarms and the frenzied nurses and doctors bringing his daughter back from the brink. Since then the woman had stayed true to her word and ignored him and he had happily returned the favor.

Now his relief at Andy's recovery was made even more so by the knowing that with another chance at life Andy would have the opportunity to make things right; to admit her sin and thus avoid eternal suffering. As he watched their interaction it became painfully obvious that Miranda had his daughter completely under her spell, like some sort of modern day witch.

He needed her to go away, preferably sooner rather than later.

l l l l l l l

Several hours later Andy was in the elevator with two nurses, being moved to a regular room. Miranda was following behind, supervising one of the concierge staff with the movement of all of the personal items that had accumulated in the adjacent guest quarters including a large number of cards and flower arrangements. Staring at the ceiling she wasn't paying attention to what was going on around her although she was aware that the car had stopped briefly and that others had joined them.

"Oh my God, it's her!" A somewhat screechy teen voice interrupted the quiet banter between the nurses.

Andy blinked. _Who?_ She tilted her head to the side on the pillow in an effort to see who else was in the small space only to see a young blonde staring excitedly; directly at her.

"Brandy, hush!"

"But mom, it's the "Angel of the Broadway Line"!"

The girl's mother shook her head and sheepishly apologized. "Really, I'm sorry, you're her first celebrity and…"

Her voice trailed off as the elevator stopped yet again and the nurses placed themselves between Andy and the pair, as Andy realized they were blocking attempts by the girl to take her picture with her phone.

"Please ma'am, your daughter is not allowed to take pictures of our patients." The taller of the two tersely informed the pair as she loomed over Andy even more, effectively blocking her face from view. After what seemed like ages the bed was finally maneuvered out of the claustrophobic space but even the fresh air of the warm and inviting lobby area of her new home away from home couldn't calm Andy's new-found unease.

l l l l l l l

"So…" Andy took in the décor of her new room; it was pretty much like the one in the ICU but with a view of midtown out her window, _not that I can get up and look._ She was still tethered to monitors, an IV and a catheter which was starting to get on her last nerve. "…what hasn't everyone been telling me?" She looked beyond the profusion of get-well wishes that had been relegated to the family suite in the ICU at Miranda who was coming out of a doorway in the back of the room. Doug had went home, needing to do laundry and prepare for returning to work, her mom had just left to stretch her legs again and her dad hadn't stayed long, saying he was going to attend mass.

Miranda made eye contact as she settled into the comfortable chair next to the bed. "Is there something specific to which you are referring?" She hedged a bit, still unsure how much to share as Andy had yet to remember the events leading to being injured and they had all agreed that they didn't want to put more stress on her than necessary.

Andy sighed, her dread growing from both the child's outburst and the reticence of those around her to fill her in on what she couldn't remember. "Let's start with 'Angel of the Broadway Line?'"

Miranda couldn't hide her flinch. "Where did you hear that?" She was livid; all of the medical personnel had been directed to mention nothing regarding the bombing, or subsequent news frenzy, in front of their patient.

Andy recoiled slightly at the venom and the suddenly fierce glint in her eye. "On the elevator, some kid let out a big old 'squeee' when she saw me and then when her mother apologized she said I was her 'first celebrity' oh, and she tried to take a picture of me with her phone! I'm just glad those nurses were there, they huddled around me as if their lives depended upon it." Andy chuckled mirthlessly because when she thought about it, just by the looks of the non-verbal clues Miranda was throwing off, their lives probably did. But the distraction only lasted a moment as her eyes watered and her hand trembled when she pushed the hair back away from her face; she just knew she was going to absolutely hate whatever was coming next.

Miranda let out a very uncharacteristic mental _Fuck!_ as she considered how best to phrase it. _Better to just show her…_ She reached into sleek Prada laptop bag and pulled out a folded Thursday edition of the New York Times that had by far the most comprehensive accounting yet of the entire incident and gently handed it over.

Andy's eyes drifted from the intense gray-blue that still flashed with fire down a delicate arm and tapered, well-manicured fingers to a single, large headline "**'Angel of the Broadway Line', Andrea Sachs"** and below, the sub-header, "New Details Emerge on the Identity of the Subway Heroine".

"Holy Shit!" The dark irises grew wide enough to be nearly encircled by white for several seconds as her mouth sagged enough to draw a groan from the tugging of the damned stitches and the tape holding the gauze in place. A concussive "Fucking hell! Fuck, fuckity, fuck me!" disrupted the tableau followed by groans and an occasional "oh my god" as the article was thoroughly consumed.

Miranda's eyebrows rose, as her face pinked, recalling a conversation a few days earlier regarding Andrea's utilization of that particular profanity. Indeed, it did seem that her usage of the "f" word was quite extensive; _Frank Zappa would be proud, _she mused. But at the distressed look that settled on the still bruised face Miranda sobered; quietly waiting until it was time to process.

Tense minutes passed as the front page article was read once and then again.

"I don't remember any of this…" She whispered.

"The doctor said eventually you will probably remember everything, but right now…"

"The New York Times?"

Miranda sighed, "And CNN, MSNBC, all of the networks, all of the papers, everywhere." She nodded. "You are now unfortunately more famous than…"

"You?" A dark eyebrow arched.

Pale skin pulled slightly as lips outlined by subtle color quirked at the near teasing tone. "Yes, Andrea, you have surpassed even myself."

"Damn, this is unreal. I don't even know where to begin."

"Well, let me start by saying that I'm very proud of you, in spite of the fact that I almost lost you. What you did was so incredibly selfless and brave darling."

"I wish I could remember. It's so weird to read about myself when I don't have any recollection of it; I mean it's like they're writing about someone else."

"That's why we wanted to keep your exposure to the media from you as long as possible; it's a lot to take in but I see now that there was no good way to do this. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

Miranda stretched out and reached for her left hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Because this is only the beginning; you are now in the public eye, do you remember your struggle with having the press find out about us?" She paused and waited.

Andy sifted through the thoughts that were still rather jumbled, her frustration increasing with each conversation highlighting the new facts of her life; at not only the difficulty she was having in pulling forward specific memories from the last couple of weeks but her growing awareness that her life had unequivocally changed.

"Yeah, I remember." The quake in her voice echoed her body's deflation as she sank further into the pillows and covers, eyes closing.

"Andrea, talk to me. Tell me what's going on inside."

The irony of the request was not lost on the despondent woman and she couldn't help the strangled burst of a laugh that tumbled out. She groaned out an "Ohhh this is just too weeeird."

Miranda continued to hold her hand, watching every movement that flitted across the battered face. "What Andrea?"

"_**You**_, wanting to talk about feelings."

Miranda tried to school her features but after the intensity of the past week found that she was unable to hide the disappointed hurt that the unexpected barb elicited.

"Yes, well…" She withdrew her hand and Andrea opened her eyes and looked at her.

"I'm sorry…" Andy hadn't even stopped to consider how her words could have been interpreted and hastened to explain. "It's just that everything seems so different for me right now. One minute my life is my own and the next I wake up and I'm cut off from everything that defines who I am, apart from you, my friends and my family, but my body has been busted up and I can't remember how I got here. It…it's overwhelming and frightening. And you, you are different from what I remember of even a week ago."

She regarded the pale features barely touched by makeup that did not even attempt to hide the darkened skin under her eyes and the usually elegantly styled hair that was less controlled, curls forming where none had been allowed in the past. She reached out her hand indicating she wanted Miranda's back and was rewarded.

"I'm really scared. My parents are acting all bizarre, they know about us, you haven't been to work in how many days, I can't even get out of bed, I don't have my phone, my laptop and until the last couple of minutes haven't even seen the news or read a paper after waking up from what everyone says was a drug-induced coma where I'd been for almost three days? Next you'll tell me I flat-lined or something!"

The horrified look on Miranda' face and the sudden tears that sprang in her eyes told Andy more than she wanted to know. "Oh god, no!"

"Yes, I almost lost you more than once darling. It was after your surgery." She explained about the electrolyte imbalance and the subsequent heart stoppage.

"Everyone saw this?"

"Yes, we were all here."

"I was dead?" Andy felt like she couldn't get air.

"No!" Miranda's voice rose in expulsive horror. "Your heart stopped for only a minute or two but you were _**not**_ dead!" The unusually raised voice lowered to near normal but still shook with emphasis.

The panic Andy saw in the other woman pulled her back from her own and settled her; Miranda needed her to get a grip.

"Miranda…" She gripped the hand in hers tightly. "I'm here; I'm going to be alright. It's going to be alright. I'm sorry…"

"No. Don't apologize; this is a shock, all of it's a shock. You're here and I need to let go of the fact that it was so very close…" Her voice trailed off and she stared at their joined hands. "It's all that matters. You. Are. Here." Once again she lowered the rail and sat next on the bed, trembling hands pushing back the dark hair that had drifted forward, covering the nastiest of the bruises. "And I am forever grateful."

l l l l l l l


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: All disclaimers apply; see Prolog/Chap01 for full disclaimers and remember, I don't own these characters (except for Madeline and Bethany and a myriad other bit players).

I really did not intend it to take as long as it has to finish this chapter; as it is, it's the longest one yet and it also brings to a close Arc 2. I had every intention of warning you all when I was going to wrap it up but for some reason this story kept insisting upon ending here. Arc 3 is in the planning stages but it will probably be a couple of months before I have it ready to roll.

Thank you to everyone who has commented throughout this work; I truly appreciate your encouragement and feedback. It makes me feel really good that something I wrote entertained you and maybe even made you think a bit. Now, on to the story.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

"Miranda, I just read that Fashion Week started today?" It was twenty after four on Sunday afternoon and Andy had just finished reading an article about the impact of the bombing on the two week event.

Miranda looked up from her laptop. "Yes."

Andy bit lightly at her bottom lip, wincing as the affectation caused a pulling in her cheek.

"Erm, uh, shouldn't you be there?"

Miranda pursed her lips. "Don't worry about it, it's being handled. My girls will be here shortly and it is important that they see you; I promised them as soon as you were moved that they would be able to visit."

"But…"

"No, Andrea, no buts." She returned her focus to the laptop clearly dismissing the conversation.

Outwardly Andy rolled her eyes but the action hid her absolute astonishment; Miranda was putting her before Runway?

She was about to inquire further but the door opened and her mother returned forcing Andy to bite her tongue and wait until they were alone again.

l l l l l l l

Miranda received a text that Caroline and Cassidy were only a few minutes away and went down to the lobby to meet them.

For a Sunday the main lobby was rather busy; people were bustling in and out but Miranda only had eyes for the two redheads making their way through the doors.

"Mom!" Both girls ran to their mother, hugging her.

"We can't wait to see her!"

"I loaded this IPod!"

"We made a card!"

Miranda allowed herself a moment to revel in the generosity and warmth of her daughters, giving each an extra squeeze before leading them towards the elevators; she was relieved that they were the only ones in the car and turned to look at them seriously.

"Before we go in you need to understand that Andrea looks very different from when you last saw her."

Caroline bit her lip as she looked up while Cassidy shuffled her feet.

"But know that the bruising will go away, the stitches and bandage removed and with time she will be back to the "Andy" you both know."

They started to talk in unison but Miranda held up a hand. "Also, under no circumstance are you to jostle or be rough with her; her ribs are still healing and she has bruises all over her body."

"We won't mom."

"We'll be extra careful."

"We promise!" This said in unison.

The elevator was moving slowly and Miranda used the time to absorb the scene as she noted that the highly polished doors reflected her girls' images and burnished them in warm gold. They were so earnest, so natural; _how did I manage to raise them to be so?_ Perhaps it was luck, maybe a twist of the universe's sense of balance or perhaps it was that she had actually done something right; whatever it was, in that moment she understood completely how incredibly full her life was _with _life. She surreptitiously dabbed at the tiny bit of moisture that had gathered in the corner of her eyes with her index finger then pulled each girl back towards her with an arm around their shoulders, kissing them on the head as the car stopped and the doors slid open.

l l l l l l l

Louise had settled on the couch, resuming her place in front of her laptop. She looked up at Andy even as she kept half an eye on her emails.

"You're really excited about seeing them aren't you?"

Andy's eyes sparkled even as she winced slightly at the dull ache behind her forehead when she lifted her head. "Wait until you meet them, you'll see."

Louise smiled. "Then I can't wait to. Oh, I meant to tell you, Bethany is beside herself with worry for you."

"I need to call her I know; I just haven't had the energy. How's she been?"

"Busy with her senior year. She's threatening to take her spring break here with you instead of going to Florida."

"She is?"

"She said, and I quote, 'Andy's been there for me through everything and I need to be there for her.' I don't believe she's letting her father stand in her way on this."

Andy grimaced at the reminder of her father's brother. "Yeah, and just how has Robert been?"

"As unreasonable and as unpleasant as ever but no amount of grounding or threats is making Beth back off…"

Louise's attention returned to her computer and she frowned as a particularly troubling message from one of her law-partners caught her eye.

"What's wrong?"

"I may have to return to Cincinnati sooner rather than later."

Andy's mood sank a little at that but she knew it was inevitable. "I understand; I just hoped we'd have some time to talk before you do. I need to explain a few things to you."

"Like?"

"Medical power of attorney for one? Not telling you about Miranda, another."

"Darling, I understand."

"Do you?"

"You didn't want to put me in the middle of you and your father."

Andy's eyebrows rose but not in surprise. "Figured that part out huh?"

Louise stood and moved towards the bed until she was standing close enough to take Andy's hand. "It was somewhat obvious although misplaced. I would much rather be included in your life and have to endure any discomfort with your father than not. I've been doing a lot of thinking and it hurt me that you didn't trust me enough to allow me to deal with it."

Andy looked down and fiddled lightly with the IV line. "I'm sorry; I am really sorry that I hurt you but it's not because I don't trust you. Yeah part of it had to do with protecting you somewhat with the power of attorney thing, but even so, I still think it's for the best this way; from what Doug told me it was good that it was them because they were in town and close." She looked up, her resolve firm. "And they knew to contact Miranda."

She inhaled and decided to be completely honest. "As for not telling you about her, I just didn't know how to. I was afraid that you'd not be able to see past the "who"; not so much that she's a woman, I knew you'd not get all hung up on it, but because of her reputation as _'La Priestly'_."

She shrugged then and added sheepishly, "Plus the fact that she's twenty-two years older…"

"I can see where you might have had several reasons to hesitate; it wasn't an easy thing to hear at first. Madeline tried…"

"Madeline? How'd you meet her?"

Louise related how Miranda had enlisted her friend to get them to the city when it would have been otherwise impossible at which point Andy's eyes misted and she settled back into her pillows, staring at the ceiling. "Mom, I am so lucky… she's…"

"Yes, Andy, you are and I never thought I'd say this to you with regards to Miranda Priestly but don't let her go, that woman loves you with a fierceness I've not seen in a long time." Louise's voice trailed off and she looked at her daughter, eyes suddenly very sad.

"Mom?"

But the door opened at just that moment and Andy had to put aside her questions for the time being; she hoped she could remember all of the truncated conversations she'd been having that needed revisiting; the list was starting to get rather long.

Louise stood and then backed away a bit as two blazing streaks of red shot into the room and flanked the bed. She watched the smile alight within the eyes so like her own at the "Andy!" shouted in two-part harmony and felt a warmth blossom in her heart. Her child had not only survived a near life-ending injury but had a family and was happy; what more could a parent ask for?

l l l l l l l

A couple hours had passed and Miranda stood in the doorway at the back of the room watching the three most precious people in the world interact. Louise moved to stand alongside of her, both women had eventually moved to the other room while the girls visited, allowing them time to heal their own fears and assuage their concerns.

"They get along well with my daughter; I seem to remember that wasn't really the case when she worked for you."

Miranda snorted quietly. "My daughters, up until the last year, had the unfortunate habit of baiting and tormenting my assistants. Andrea received their tender attentions and it nearly got her fired. However, after that, and mind you I did not discover this until Andrea returned to our lives, they came to see Andrea in a different light; they actually missed her when she left." Miranda's voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the room; her lips pursed as she noted the utter exhaustion that Andrea was trying to hide and she retrieved her cell phone, sending a text to Roy.

"Girls, it's time to wrap up; Cara will be here shortly to get you."

Both girls pouted but they could see how tired Andy was and didn't push. "We'll be back tomorrow after school; Roy's going to drop us off!" Cassidy nudged her sister and they both gently leaned in for a hug.

Miranda helped them gather their things and with a nod in Andrea's direction shepherded them out. Once the door closed Andy looked at her mother who had resumed her seat next to the bed and resolved to get a few answers.

"Mom?" She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she really wanted to have this conversation.

Louise shifted in her chair, aware of a seriousness that had not been there only moments before and decided a deflection was in order.

"Andy, shouldn't you rest now?"

"No mom, I'd like to finish our conversation from earlier; you said yourself that you might have to leave soon and I don't want you to go without us finishing this." She inhaled sharply and went straight to the point. "What's going on with you and dad?"

Louise bit her lower lip and looked down at her wedding ring. "Really, this isn't the best time to discuss this."

"Damn it! I'm tired of everyone treating me like I was some kind of fucking invalid!" Andy forced herself to calm down and kept her face neutral, her mother didn't need to know everything still hurt whenever she moved; especially her ribs and face.

Louise looked up and met her daughter's eyes. "I'm seriously considering filing for a divorce when I return home."

Andy gasped, but other than the exhalation remained silent. Part of her was stunned at the surprise even as she thought _it's about time_.

"Is this because of me?"

Louise looked at her hard for several moments and then shrugged. "Yes and no. It's really about him and how he treats both of you girls and me too; so it has nothing to do with you per se but… in a way it's everything. I love you girls so much and his treatment of you both has been something I've been in denial about; hoping that someday he would see reason."

She ran a hand through her dark hair and picked at some lint on her trousers. "But instead, it's been getting worse." She paused for a moment, debating upon how detailed to be but then decided it needed to be said.

"He's going to mass daily now and spends more, not less, time with that pompous ass Robert; his rhetoric has gotten less rational and more forceful; listening to him spout off his religious BS and his political crap is not how I want to spend whatever time I have left on this planet. I'm tired of it all Andy, I've been tired of it but have been too…" she searched for the word to express exactly what would explain why she'd stayed as long as she had. When she finally found it shame colored her face; she really thought herself better than that. "… complacent; lulled by my daily routine, to feel motivated to change it. I've kept hoping…"

Once again her voice trailed off and she didn't bother to finish the sentence. "It doesn't matter, this entire incident has shown me just how far removed he is from the man I fell in love with and married all those years ago."

Andy noticed that Louise had begun absently twisting the ring that had been on her finger for nearly thirty-seven years, and remained silent; intuiting that her mother wasn't quite finished.

Louise looked up from her contemplation and Andy's heart nearly broke at the lost look found there. "I just don't want to be sad anymore." She straightened and allowed the strength she showed in her successful law practice to come through. "I deserve better."

Andy grasped her hand and squeezed lightly, again mindful of not revealing the dull ache from a mild wrist sprain. "Oh mom, I don't want you to be sad either. I understand; I wish it didn't come to this, but I understand and support you in whatever you decide."

They shared a watery smile and sat in silence until Miranda returned several minutes later.

l l l l l l l

It was somewhere in the early hours of Monday morning and Andy's sleep was plagued by images of carrying heavy bags and running in dark, damp places, panic spurring her forward. No matter what she did she couldn't keep her feet and she kept dropping her bundle right before she heard a loud, concussive blast which was followed by searing pain as she watched her limbs sever and fly away from her body. Then it would all start again. After what seemed like countless repetitions, dream Andy was exhausted and began screaming that all she wanted was for the endless loop of dark, confusing and painful images to stop. As if the universe was merely waiting for her to fight back, once the echoes of her lament faded away, the scenes shifted.

She looked down and could see for the first time what it was that she carried in her arms; a young boy with dark floppy hair and big eyes staring back up at her. She squeezed him tight and told him to hang on as she saw much needed light illuminate what she could now recognize as railway ties. As before the world fell in on her but this time she didn't let go, curling instead around the little boy.

The next image was of a blond man standing over her, telling her that she'd be okay; she sort of recognized him but his name and context eluded her. Then the pain once again got to be too much and she descended back into the darkness only to be delivered up into the faint light of a new day. When she opened her eyes they were captured by watchful blue ones as a gentle hand soothed her forehead.

"You were dreaming darling."

Andy attempted to sort through the images but couldn't pull anything completely out into her waking thoughts. "Yeah, it was the explosion; it's still fuzzy for me. During the day I'll remember a little something, like looking down at my red Doc Marten's on the train or maybe a smell or sensation but at night, more comes to me I think."

"It didn't look like it was particularly pleasant."

Andy considered for a moment and decided not to prevaricate. "Yeah, it was painful. Like needles piercing my skin and ball bats beating me all over."

They both shared a shiver and Andy looked up at her love. "I know it's going to take time but I just wish I could remember more now. This reading about myself without remembering is making me nuts."

"Yes, but the dreams are a good sign that it will come back to you."

Andy smiled as best she could and lifted Miranda's hand to her lips. "Mmm, yeah, a good sign that it will be a good day; plus, I have you…" she continued to lay tender kisses along the side of Miranda's index finger until she reached her palm where she paused and licked, then added with a devilish grin "_**and**_ the catheter comes out today!"

Miranda snorted inelegantly. "Yes, well, I so appreciate being included in the same sentence as _that _observation."

Andy gave one final kiss to the palm and lowered her hand to the bed. "Unfortunately my life seems to now revolve around milestones of the bodily function variety. Who'dda ever thought that peeing on my own would be so exciting?"

Miranda grew pensive and murmured almost to herself as she stroked the dark curls gently. "Better than the alternative darling."

They remained quiet for several minutes until a nurse entered on her morning rounds. After a few minutes of fussing with the lines and inquiring about her comfort level, they were once again left alone. As she became more awake, Andy was aware of a dull aching all over her body and some stronger localized discomfort wherever she had stitches; the morphine had been discontinued the day before and replaced with a less addictive pain killer that was not quite as effective but her head felt clearer and she welcomed the feeling.

"Do you think you will be up to more visitors today?" Miranda had been waiting until she thought Andy was strong enough; having successfully stonewalled anyone who had attempted to gain entry before now.

Although still tired Andy nodded. "I guess it depends upon the who."

"Greg wishes to speak with you and I told him you may be available today."

"Greg? You're on a first name basis with my boss?"

Miranda had a slight glint in her eye and she smirked slightly. "Let's just say that in our mutual panic to find you last week that certain things were revealed and since we've had several conversations centered upon your well-being."

Every single one of Andy's insecurities seemed to suddenly emerge like roaches in the dark corners of a kitchen and her eyes snapped with fire. "Goddamn it Miranda this isn't funny! What the hell?"

Miranda counted to ten, trying to remember to look beyond the anger, understanding that if the roles were reversed she would be feeling very frightened by her powerlessness and confusion of events right about now; also the doctor had warned them that one of the side effects of a concussion such as Andy's could be outbursts of anger. Once she saw that Andrea had calmed she patiently explained the contact starting with her calling the day of the blast and the subsequent daily conversations they'd had concerning her recovery.

"I assure you, I have not interfered in any way with your position at the paper; instead it was about allaying the concerns of your boss and quite a few of your co-workers regarding your wellbeing. We also discussed the possible ramifications of the press coverage regarding both your "hero" status and our relationship…" Andy's brows knit together and barely banked embers simmered once again in her eyes, but Miranda saw and marginally increased her volume "… _**whenever**_ it be made public which I believe will not be much longer."

Andy's ire was doused by a sudden need to hide only to be replaced in mere seconds with self-castigation for the desire. She practically bit her tongue until it bled just so she wouldn't say something inappropriate. Brimming with questions, she was unsure of which to ask first, but she needed to get a grip; she didn't want to become sidetracked by unfamiliar and unwanted feelings of helplessness and claustrophobia.

Miranda took the silence as a signal to continue.

"Greg, being the intuitive news individual, quite successfully deduced that I was your 'suitor' as he so quaintly put it. He has been most discrete and has turned out to be quite compassionate. And no…" she held up her hand as it looked again like Andy was about to intercede, "… no decisions regarding how to approach all of this with the press have been made. I believe that today though would be a good day to move forward with making those decisions. How would you feel about meeting with both Greg and Leslie at some point today?"

Andy leaned back into her pillow. _Mother fucker._ Her hands shook as she moved her hair back away from her face and she convulsively swallowed at the sudden feeling she had to vomit. She closed her eyes for several long moments struggling with remaining calm. She breathed in deeply, remembering the rudimentary meditation techniques she had started using the year before, and reached for one of her quiet places. This time it was an image from the world she used to inhabit; the last time Miranda and she had snuggled in Miranda's king size cocoon. But the scene dissipated like so much smoke, leaving her with an overwhelming awareness of both her current bed, its metal a trap holding her prisoner, and of her body, which literally felt as if it was liquefying and about to come rushing out of every possible orifice.

"I… um, I'm having kind of a rough…" She coughed, nearly gagging on a sudden push of stomach acid; then gasped for breath. "… shit; um, I'm feeling really strange all of a sudden, like I can't breathe… or I'm going to puke." Andy's eyes were growing wider, her voice was constricted and she started to push herself up and out of the bed.

Miranda was reaching for the nurse's call button after Andrea voiced that she was having difficulty breathing but retracted her hand when she realized that it was in fact a panic attack.

"Andrea, listen to me, look at me." She sat next to Andy on the bed and reached for both hands; stilling their near frantic movements and keeping her from pulling the connected tubes from her body.

"You are having an anxiety attack; you've told me you've had these before, remember? Do you remember how you used to cope with them?"

Andy's body seemed to relax slightly from its fight or flight state although Miranda was still prepared to physically contain her if she looked as if she would attempt to get up again.

"That's right, whatever it was you used to do to cope, do it now. Remember, you're all right. If it helps, focus on my voice and concentrate on taking slow, calming breaths."

Andy redirected her thoughts away from their attention on her body's minutiae, aware now of what was going on. She accepted the panic for what it was and allowed it to flow through without fighting it. Her breathing calmed and she no longer felt as though the bed were an evil entity that had her within its clutches.

They sat together for many minutes, Miranda keeping a watchful eye over this extraordinary woman who was now so much more fragile than she'd ever witnessed. The instinct to protect her at all costs strengthened her resolve to have the meeting with Leslie as soon as possible even as she debated whether or not Andrea was truly ready. Her intuition told her they couldn't postpone it.

Andrea cleared her throat and looked up with sorrowful eyes. "You had asked me a question. Am I ready? Truthfully? I don't want to do anything. Nothing; I want it to go back to how it was."

Miranda continued her vigil silently, hating this but knowing there was no recourse, allowing Andrea the space to come to terms with it all.

"But I know that's not possible and I trust that you wouldn't ask if you didn't think it was necessary." Her voice was now completely resigned as silent tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "So sure; whenever they can meet, have them come by."

l l l l l l l

It was eleven thirty later that same morning and a light knock sounded on the hospital room door. Miranda arose and opened it allowing Greg Hill entrance; the two shook hands and she guided him over to one of the chairs positioned around the bed.

Andy smiled as best as she could while Greg beamed. "It is so good to see you, even if you do look like you went ten rounds with an Ultimate Fighter champ and got the shit stomped out of you!"

"Please Greg; don't hold back your observations on my account."

The two chuckled as he settled back into the chair. "Seriously, you had us all really worried."

"Yeah, well, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"We wouldn't dream of it, our sales have increased in the last week and new advertisers have been sniffing around." He deadpanned but there was a twinkle in his brown eyes.

Andy paused, the banter was familiar but still, it made her feel uncomfortable in a way she'd never been with her boss. Before she could comment and break the suddenly awkward silence, Greg reached down and pulled a messenger bag up from the floor. Andy noted the Prada label on the side but said nothing further as Greg continued.

"Miranda had a little something delivered to the office this morning and IT went ahead and worked their magic."

Andy's eyes lit up then, grim thoughts temporarily cast aside, and she looked over to Miranda who nodded once and then back to Greg while she opened the bag. As she peeked inside Miranda offered an explanation.

"We have been informed that your laptop and phone are still in police evidence and that perhaps there was some damage; so, now, you will be able to talk, email, surf the web, anything you want, whenever you want." She was hopeful that being once again able to control her own interaction with the outside world would help ease some of Andrea's anxiety.

Inside was the new 16GB iPhone and a 15-inch MacBook Pro in an aluminum case. Andy looked questioningly at Miranda. "I don't remember seeing these in the store…"

Miranda quietly smiled at the minor coup she had affected. "Yes, well, they may not be out for several months yet."

Andy allowed a bubble of delighted laughter to escape, visualizing the newest "Emily" attempting to pull off this coup as Greg added conspiratorially. "I had to swear our IT guy to secrecy; he almost choked on his breakfast burrito when I took it in to him." He looked back at Andy and continued in his normal voice. "All of your contacts, images and calendar entries, current to the last time you uploaded, have been synced to the phone and the computer has been loaded with the certificates necessary to access _The Mirror's_ database and live site. I'll expect the finished product on any outstanding articles within the week."

Andy quirked an eyebrow and raised her middle finger to her forehead in mock salute, knowing he was only teasing. "Sure boss, I'll get right on that, right after I'm able to take a piss by myself."

Even as she bantered with Greg she unconsciously reached for Miranda's hand, as she switched her gaze to stare lovingly at her. "Thank you. This is awesome!" She pulled the hand up for a kiss to the palm, her new favorite place, and then threaded their fingers together as she returned her attention towards her boss, ignoring his slightly widened eyes at the display of affection. "And seriously Greg, thank you for taking the time to get it all ready for use; you have no idea how crazy this isolation has been making me."

At another knock at the door Miranda made her way over, this time admitting a tall, slender redhead with short, straight hair shaped into a flattering bob. Andy had spoken with her countless times over the phone while employed at Runway but they had never met in person. _So this is Leslie; impressive. _Her carriage radiated a no-nonsense demeanor that screamed competency and Andy relaxed marginally, glad she was on their side.

Once the introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged Leslie looked at everyone and took a deep fortifying breath then ripped the Band-Aid off without prevarication.

"Tomorrow Page Six will be running an article on Miranda's absence from Fashion Week. My sources tell me that a woman named Marion Jenkins called one of the 'reporters' and informed them that you had barely been seen for the last week and that perhaps you were starting to slip in your performance as the reigning queen of fashion. Also…"

"What? That's bullshit! Miranda, who _is_ this woman?" Andy was appalled that anyone would be so ignorant of the consequences as to seriously attempt a full-on assault of Miranda's competence, let alone a media outlet foolish enough to provide the forum.

Miranda pursed her lips, her voice deathly quiet. "A nobody who has aspirations of grandeur; when I am through with her she will be lucky to aspire to assistant manager at a Pizza Hut in Poughkeepsie…"

Leslie interjected forcefully. "Yes and of course I am available to help you there, but let's return to the other issue, aside from the numerous attempts by reporters to gain access to both the ICU here and to Andrea's newly assigned room..." She felt a slight flutter of her eye lids and her hand twitched minutely; no matter that Miranda had been one of her clients for the better part of ten years, the woman could still surprise and intimidate her. What she had to say next was sure to draw her ire.

"The Daily News reportedly has a photo of you and your girls in the lobby of this hospital as well as several others of you entering and exiting the past couple of days. Unfortunately they are set to publish several in tomorrow's paper complete with a caption speculating on just why exactly you are spending your time _**here **_where 'coincidentally' your former employee, now very famous, just so happens to be in temporary residence."

Everyone stared for several seconds, processing. It was Andy who finally broke the tableau with a very loud "Fuck!"

"Yes Andrea, 'fuck' indeed." Miranda was livid, they usually left the girls well alone but now it was as if someone decided that the rules no longer applied. _Oh someone will dearly pay for this._ "It won't take long for it all to come together; as a matter of fact your Mr. Blankenship will undoubtedly put together a few more of the pieces and…"

"Wait a minute." Greg interrupted. "What the hell does Howard have to do with any of this?"

The string of curses that Greg let rip after Andy explained was quite impressive although they did little to mollify Andy. "Greg, you can't do anything to him. It's all hearsay!"

"Perhaps not officially, but off the record? I can do plenty. So leave Howard to me; I'll explain just how much he stands to lose should I ever find that he contributed in any way to this cluster fuck."

Miranda chuckled wryly. "Well then, that just leaves The Post, Daily News and every other jackal working for any of a dozen or so other gossip rags; not to mention the on-line websites and blogs."

Andy tried not to freak out too badly but was finding that both her equanimity and patience were in short supply; the panic was edging back and the fight to keep it at bay lent her voice a tone of desperation. "What the hell are we going to do? Damn **it** this isn't fucking fair!"

Leslie pulled the conversation back towards constructive brainstorming, a hint of her native Boston coloring her tones. "No, it isn't fair; but it _**is**_ occurring and there's nothing we can do to _**stop**_ it. That said; just because it's inevitable doesn't mean that it can't still be on our terms, but we must move quickly. Greg, I think you will like what I have to say and I really hope that you both…" She looked at Miranda and Andy. "will listen all the way through before voicing opinions one way or the other."

l l l l l l l

Andy still wasn't sure how she felt about their decided course of action but pecked slowly at the keyboard, determined to fulfill her end of the bargain despite her misgivings and the pain in both of her hands. She had completed nearly everything she had to say and was reviewing it when the door swung open and her father stepped in. Andy looked up briefly and stifled a sigh; Miranda was in the other room on a video conference call and her mother was at her hotel packing for her flight back to Cincinnati later that evening leaving Andy with the first uninterrupted time with her father since the Thanksgiving weekend drive to the airport.

"Hey dad." She tried as she had the last time he visited to muster some enthusiasm to inject into her tone but fell short.

Richard looked around him, surprised to find that he was alone with his daughter. "You're looking better; it looks like you've turned the corner."

"Yeah; I'm getting a bit clearer since we got rid of the morphine. Last night was the last time I had it."

"You aren't in any pain are you?" Richard grimaced, the bruising on her face and arms were now blotches of deep purples and yellows and there was still swelling at the points of impact although greatly reduced from when he first saw her.

Andy shrugged. "It's not too bad. I'm really sore but I'm still getting painkillers so no…" She let her voice trail off; part of her was hurt and angry with the way he had been acting and she really didn't feel like talking about a topic he would have been better informed about if he had actually spent any real time with her. She was curious though about what his take was on her mother's decision to remain at the hotel. "You know, we haven't really had a chance to talk, you haven't been here much…"

Richard looked down at his hands for a few moments. "Yes, well, I didn't really feel like I was welcome here."

"Bullshit!" Andy couldn't believe that of all the reasons he could have offered that he would actually attempt to blame others for his actions.

"Andy, watch your language."

"Well then don't lie to me." She snapped back.

"I'm not lying; I didn't feel welcome."

Andy stopped for a moment considering what she had heard about the interactions between her father and everyone else; perhaps in his mind he believed it. "So, did you feel that I didn't want you here?"

"No, that's not it. I…"

"Here's what I heard…" She didn't let him finish his sentence wanting to keep control of the conversation. "… please tell me if this is incorrect. You came in here and expected that everyone else would just fall into line with how you thought things should be and when it didn't happen you got mad and then argued with pretty much everyone in the room."

Richard clenched his jaw. "I was not respected. Your so-called friends and _that woman_ ignored every concern I had, back talked and dismissed me. I can't understand how you can think those people actually have your best interests at heart…"

"Oh my god!" Andy's voice nearly squeaked. "you have no clue, do you? It's called _**cause**_ and _**effect**_. You attack and people react." Andy stared at her father, seeing the man, perhaps for the first time, from a more detached point of view. "Look, I'm truly sorry you feel this way. It makes me really sad that you aren't able to see that it was your actions which brought about what happened. It was _**you**_ dad; _**you**_ didn't offer anyone in this room, including me, respect."

Richard started to object. "That's what everyone is telling you."

She shook her head, her next words heavy with admonishment. "_**Please **_dad, everyone, including mom, is not lying to me."

Richard remained silent but his flinty green eyes flashed with anger.

Andy, softened her tone, she had questions and she really hoped to get answers. "Dad, why didn't you stay with mom at the hotel?"

"There was no way I was staying anywhere that that woman was paying for."

"Even if you knew that it would hurt me?" Andy tried not to get emotional but she could feel a traitorous liquid brimming her eyelids.

"Look, Andy, it's not about hurting you. I don't want to hurt you, I want to protect you and by allowing this temptation to have any foothold is what is truly hurting you. You must understand, it's not too late to ask for forgiveness…" His words were rushed and hopeful; since he couldn't convince her to leave New York he had spent his time investigating options and contacts and was prepared to show her that there was a community in the city, one that would provide her a better path than what she was on.

"Forgiveness for what dad?" Andy was nearly pleading now.

"Andy, your soul will spend eternity in torment if you continue on this path. Laying with another woman is an abomination, one that God will not forgive unless you renounce it and ask for forgiveness." Richard's voice picked up force and volume, now loud enough to be heard through the closed door at the back of the room.

Miranda had finished her call and was reviewing her notes when the she heard the now familiar strident tone. She moved towards the door but hesitated, she knew that Andrea had had a lot to deal with this day already but truly, this was Andrea's battle to fight, she couldn't take it away from her.

_But, she is so fragile._

Miranda made a decision and cracked the door, enough so she could hear if the exchange got out of control.

Andy lost the battle with her tears as she realized that she was truly about to lose her father; that in fact she was already lost to him unless she gave away the greatest love she would ever know in her life. "Dad…"

Richard misunderstood his daughter's emotion, thinking that he had finally broken through. "It's alright honey, it's going to be okay, you'll see, it'll get easier. You just have to trust God…"

"Trust god?" Her voice was strangled as she nearly choked on the mucous running down the back of her throat. "Trust god? Which god? _**Your**_ god? The god that says that I have to deny the love in my heart for Miranda? The god that says that I must choose between my father and the love of my life?"

"What do you mean?" Richard was perplexed.

"Dad, don't you see? I choose Miranda; I will always choose Miranda. Even if by some slim chance the world really ends up being like you say it is and when I die I end up in some fiery hell, it doesn't matter, I choose to burn because I'll at least be burning _**with her**_."

Behind the door Miranda felt her entire body shiver from the fervor of Andrea's proclamation; never had she felt so loved as at that moment.

"This makes no sense!" Andy could see the genuine struggle her father was having in grasping her declaration. "This woman has totally brainwashed you." Richard was up and pacing now.

"No dad, we love each other, that's all." Andy wiped at her tears with a handful of tissues and blew her nose as she waited for her father's next salvo.

Richard didn't disappoint as he turned quickly and spat, "Love? What do you know about love? You are still young, swayed by this city you moved to where everyone does whatever they want; where the devil lives on every corner and is celebrated as _**normal**_!"

"Jesus dad! Listen to yourself! You talk about your devil, this imaginary fabrication, as if it were actually real. You know what's real? Real is the fact that Miranda has been with me every day since she found out about what happened. She's worked from here, she's slept here, she's even missed the first two days of New York Fashion Week! She is willing to withstand the awful things the gossip rags are going to publish about her tomorrow and every day after. She's allowing the world to know about us and do you know why? Because she loves me! So don't you dare stand there and tell me I don't know what love is because I think it's you that doesn't have a fucking clue!"

"Andy! What the hell are you talking about? What's going to happen tomorrow?"

Andy and Miranda rolled their eyes simultaneously. Miranda scoffed, it figures that the only thing the plodding idiot heard in all that had to do with what people were going to think.

"Seriously? That's all you got out of that?" Andy tried not to be shrill but it was taking all of her self control not to fly out of bed and shriek in his face. She regrouped and tried to find the shreds of her equanimity, no matter what else he was still her father and she didn't want him to be blindsided.

"Look, tomorrow the two major gossip rags in the city are each going to publish separate articles regarding Miranda and speculation on her whereabouts the past week, including one that has photos of her here at the hospital. Once those two stories are out there the picture will be very clear that Miranda has been with me and it won't take long for people to connect the dots and out us."

"Can't they be stopped?" Richard was nearly panicked now.

Andy snorted. "Can you piss into a tornado and not get wet?" She stared for a moment and explained quietly. "No, they can't be; we're just lucky that Miranda's PR person is just that good. She gave us enough of a heads up to do a pre-emptive strike."

Richard furrowed his brow, now looking completely out of his depth. "I don't understand…"

"I will be publishing an announcement that will run on the front page of The Mirror tomorrow. That's what I was working on when you came in."

"What sort of announcement?" Dread was welling in Richard's heart, he was too late.

"Here," she pointed to her open laptop and keyed in her security code, "this is the article." She quickly saved a copy to another location on the computer, closed it and reopened it; she wouldn't put it past him to try to erase it.

Richard moved towards the bed and stood, scrolling through the document, his jaw tensing with each sentence. Once he finished he pushed it away and shook his head. "Andy, you can't…"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do dad. I need your support, I need your love, I don't need you to tell me what to do."

"I…" Richard struggled for a minute, then murmured; "This is wrong, I can't condone this."

Andy closed her eyes and the tears reappeared. Just as she was about to speak the door opened and two redheads bustled in.

"Andy! How're you feeling?" Both girls stopped suddenly and took in the tense scene.

Cassidy asked. "Uhm, where's mom?"

Andy sniffled and fiddled with the laptop. "She's in the other room on a call, she should be just about done by now."

Caroline moved closer to the bed and put her hand over Andy's. "Are you okay?"

Andy wouldn't meet her eyes and Caroline looked up at Richard. "Who are you?"

Richard stared for a moment, debating whether or not to acknowledge the child as he was peeved by their interruption; after a moment he finally relented. "I'm Andy's father."

The other redhead stepped forward then and looked up at him. "I'm Cassidy and that's Caroline; did you say something to make Andy sad?"

Miranda decided that it was time to make an appearance. "Girls, I am certain that that is none of your business."

"But mom! It's not right! Andy's been through too much already; why would someone want to make her sad?" Caroline had taken Andy's hand and was holding it; Andy had yet to look up.

Miranda wondered the same thing but held her tongue. "Why don't you come back with me for a few moments and let them finish their conversation?"

Andy squeezed Caroline's hand and held on. "Actually Miranda," she raised her head and looked at her father. "I think we were already finished. Dad, you know mom is heading back to Cincinnati tonight, right?"

Andy caught the slight flinch but it was gone in a flash. "Yes, I do."

"Are you planning on going with her?"

"I hadn't decided yet."

Andy had yet to let go of Caro's hand and Cassidy moved to the far side of the bed and pulled Andy's other hand into hers.

"I think it would be a good idea if you did."

"Andy, I…"

"No dad, there's nothing else to say. I think you've said it all fairly clearly, you don't approve of my life or my relationship..." Both girls gasped but held their tongues at the sharp look Miranda gave them. "… and I have no plans to change either. I am going to publish that article and then I'm going to focus on getting healthy and moving forward with my family." She squeezed and raised each of the small hands in her grip. "Until you can accept that I don't think I want to see or hear from you." She pulled her lip between her teeth but held his gaze firmly.

"Are you sure that this is what you want Andy?"

"What I _**want**_ is for you to accept that my life is my own to lead and to respect my decisions without trying to cram redemption down my throat. And really, as long as you are unable to accept me as I am, it's not so much about want anyway. It's about what I need. I need your unconditional love and I need to not feel your constant disappointment. So yeah, please go back to Cincinnati."

Richard spun towards Miranda who had remained at the back of the room and hissed. "This is all your fault! My daughter will lose her soul because of you."

"And because of her, I have found mine." Cool shards of gray-blue pierced him as she dismissed him quietly. "Goodbye Richard."

They stared at one another for another few moments until Richard broke eye contact and made a dismissive snort as he headed for the door. He did not look back and no one moved until the door closed completely.

Andy still had both girls' hands within her own and she found that she couldn't let go. Miranda approached and moved to stand behind Cassidy where she reached an arm around Andy and placed a kiss on the top of her forehead before loosely enveloping her in a hug. Andy was soothed as she was rocked gently and despite her desire not to freak the girls out, or to risk tearing her stitches, heavy sobs erupted.

Caroline and Cassidy stared at one another, slightly panicked and then at their mother. Miranda was too busy trying to calm Andy to acknowledge their discomfort so they stood quietly and continued to hold on.

"Andrea, darling, we've got you, we're here for you; we've got you." Miranda murmured in a soothing voice; she had never before been in such a position with another adult as no husband or lover had ever been as vulnerable as Andrea in this moment. The only time she had ever comforted another like this, aside from her daughters, was her sister after their father's death so it forced her to dig deeper inside to pull forth an empathy that was little practiced. Andrea had taken a stand for her and her family, at very high cost, and despite having reservations that she was doing it well enough, Miranda was determined to reassure her that her love was not misplaced.

l l l l l l l

Louise entered the room sometime after the hospital dinner hour surprised to see the room so quiet. Caroline and Cassidy were on the sofa doing what she surmised was homework while Miranda sat next to Andy in quiet conversation. Everyone had a somber look about them and she grew worried.

"Honey? Has something else happened? Are you okay?" Louise had been apprised of the media storm that was going to befall them the next day and deeply regretted having to return home.

Andy looked up at her with swollen eyes and her lip began to quiver as a slow trickle of tears leaked from the sides of her eyes.

"Hey mom."

Andy picked at the blanket and shifted slightly unsure of what to say. "Uhm, dad was here."

Louise shook her head. "Let me guess, he was his usual bright and cheery self?" She heard several giggles coming from the couch but ignored them.

"Yeah; you could say that. Uh, mom? I basically told him that if he couldn't accept me for who I am that it was best if he went home and that we not talk."

"What the hell did he say?"

"Does it even matter anymore? It's the same thing, every fucking time!" She didn't realize her slip until she noticed that a pair of interested little ears were canted in her direction. She grimaced and mouthed towards Miranda a quick apology who merely waved it off before turning to the girls and shooting them a warning glance.

Andy explained to her mother the interaction she had with her father. "Mom, I'm really sorry if…"

"Why are you sorry? You've done nothing wrong!"

"I know, but I just wish I coulda handled it better or something. I don't know!" She leaned her head back and tugged at her hair. "I have tried so hard not to let it get to this point but between now and Thanksgiving I just couldn't ignore it, I just couldn't hold the peace anymore."

"Andy, we've done enough dancing around all of this, and I'm not just talking about your interest in women and one woman," Louise nodded towards Miranda with a small smile. "in particular. No, this has been building for a long time. We've all swallowed our feelings and hoped for the best but the best now is that Richard and I will be going our separate ways."

"You've decided then? You're going to divorce him?"

Louise nodded. "I've been doing a lot of soul searching and this latest confirms what I deep in my heart know; I do not know this Richard and I'm not in love with him. It's time to walk away before the situation gets more unpleasant than it already is."

Mother and daughter shared an intense visual exchange and then each seeing the truth they nodded and came together in a hug. "I'm going to miss you mom, I wish you could stay."

"I know honey, but I'll be back; I'm going to take care of what I need to and then I'll be back for a visit, do you think you could stand me for a week?" They smiled and hugged again then Louise stood and looked at Miranda.

"Miranda, it has been a true pleasure to meet you." She reached for Miranda's hands and grasped both, one in each hand and then drew her in for a strong hug. "Take care of my baby." She whispered.

Once Louise was gone Miranda took Andy's hand in hers once again. "You know she will be welcome to stay at the townhouse when she returns?"

Andy felt her heart warm at Miranda's offer but found she couldn't think that far ahead; there were too many questions yet as to what her future would hold and even thinking about something as simple as her mother's next visit was overwhelming. "I think she would actually take you up on the offer too. Amazing; I never would have thought it possible."

"There are a lot of things I wouldn't have thought possible but in the past week I've come to realize that much of what I'd held as important or true has changed." She squeezed Andy's hand lightly then settled back into the chair, crossing her legs.

Andy looked at her and then at the girls. "Do you mind talking about something right now or would you like to wait awhile?"

Miranda caught Andy's reference and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I suppose it would depend upon the topic."

"Fashion Week and when you will be making an appearance?"

"Of course, I was actually planning on discussing that with you this evening. Tomorrow, I will need to attend three of the shows, one of which, Mark Jacobs, won't start until about seven; I will be here in the morning and the first, Ralph Lauren, starts at one."

Andy felt a curl of anxiety begin to wrap around her at the prospect of being alone in her hospital room for such a long period of time. Before she blurted out something embarrassing Miranda continued.

"I'll need to leave here about twelve-thirty as Erica is having my clothes sent here so I'll be able to remain until it's time to leave." Miranda eyed Andrea carefully, she hated to leave her and she could tell by the tiny shifts of her throat muscles and the slight fidgeting with the covers that Andrea was uncomfortable as well. "The girls will be coming here directly after school and, since they do not have school the next day, will be spending the night."

Andrea's countenance brightened considerably but Miranda felt the need to ensure it was her choice. "Will that be alright with you?"

Andy felt like a weight had been removed. "It will be great! Hey guys…"

Caroline and Cassidy removed their earbuds and looked up from their computers. "Yeah Andy?"

"Are you alright hanging out with me tomorrow?"

Cassidy bobbed her head quickly; "We've got a new game we want to show you…"

Caroline's words tumbled into her sister's; "We'll get to pick out dinner and even have popcorn later with a movie!"

Andy's eyes warmed. "That's a yes then!"

Once the girls were focused back on whatever it was they were playing with as homework was obviously complete, Andy looked back over at Miranda. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Really Andrea, me? Nervous?"

Andy poked at Miranda's knee. "Yes _**honey**_, you. I mean I'm anxious and I'm not going to have to see anyone tomorrow while you are going to be thrown into the middle of the storm. So, what are you feeling?"

"Andrea, it matters not to me what people think or say; magazine sales will probably double so my job will not be in peril and the board has already been informed of what's coming tomorrow; there will be no surprises on that front. Cameras are always thrust into my face during fashion week; this will be no different."

Andy settled a bit but found she couldn't leave it alone. "What do you think will happen?"

Miranda set a look upon her face that Andy hadn't seen focused on her for quite some time; the arrogant queen of fashion had rejoined them in the room, skewering Andy with liquid nitrogen eyes that drew a shiver from head to toe.

"Oooh, yeeaah. Good one; got it." And she did and loved it, all of it. This was _**her**_ woman, just as surely as she was Miranda's, with all of her many facets; from brutal businesswoman and loving partner to devoted mother and sensual lover. Andy could see the smile that warmed the ice chips, even as it was constrained upon nearly pursed lips, meant only for her to see and it did more to calm her than any platitude or spoken reassurance could hope to do.

Andy gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed, adjusting the IV lines and stand slowly as Miranda rose to meet her. It was the first time she had stood since the removal of the catheter; the nurse had appeared shortly after her father had left and with all of the emotion she hadn't even taken the time to realize she was no longer tethered to the bed. Now, all she could think about was feeling Miranda next to her.

"Darling, don't move too fast." Gone was the industry queen, voice soft and caring, now so close.

"Yeah, wow, a little dizzy here…" She reached out and wrapped her arms around Miranda's waist.

The girls looked up from their game and paused it; watching silently.

"Is there something you need? Do you need to use the restroom?"

Andy shook her head, "No, just you. I just need to feel you."

"Very well, you have me." Miranda pulled her closer and whispered in her good ear, "And you will definitely _**have**_ me again soon darling, I've missed you more than you might imagine."

Andy felt faint tremors of desire skitter tentatively through her still abused body and rejoiced that Miranda professed to still want her even after everything. Still, she harbored doubts but held them deep inside; she didn't want to think about the likely scar on her face or the unaddressed issues now.

Instead Andy allowed their bodies to melt together, smell the delicate fragrance that lingered after the long day along with the familiar scent that was Miranda. "Do you think…"

Miranda, lost for a moment in the contact, pulled back and looked at Andrea carefully; she could tell there was much going on beneath the surface but vowed not to push. She knew there were many things that needed to be discussed but now wasn't the time. "What, darling?"

"Is there any way you would sleep with me tonight?" Andy looked down at the floor, feeling foolish. No matter that every one of the medical personnel that worked with them knew they were together, Miranda wouldn't want to be so intimate in what was still somewhat a public place.

Miranda considered the venue which was anything but private, _but, really, does it matter?_ It didn't but she looked at the bed and then at Andrea. "Darling, I would love nothing more than to sleep at your side, but right now I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm sorry for asking, I understand that it would be awkward."

Miranda saw the dejection shutter the dark eyes and hastened to reassure. "You don't understand, I would love nothing more than to sleep next to you but," she reached down and lightly tugged at Andy's right arm, noting the flinch, and lightly traced the purple-yellow skin, "I don't want to hurt you. I don't give a damn what other people think but I do care about you and that bed is too small to fit both of us without me putting pressure on your still healing body."

Andy couldn't help the traitorous reaction of her body; her arm was still very sore and even minor movement was somewhat painful but the reality angered her. She lifted her gaze back to Miranda's, saw the sincerity and swore quietly. "Damn it. I hate this!"

"Soon. You are making great strides; I believe they will be willing to let you leave here in the next few days." She softly pushed back the dark hair and lovingly stroked along Andy's jaw. "So…" A long exhale of breath as her thoughts were sidetracked by the watery gaze that captured hers, "we will _**both**_ just have to be patient."

Andy mirrored the caresses and traced the soft lips, eyes widening slightly at the tiny shiver that her touch elicited, then leaned in to lightly brush their lips together. She caught sight of the girls who were obvious in their attempt to appear as though they were not watching so forced herself to pull back quickly, the kiss a fleeting promise for more.

She searched within to reach beyond the layers of her insecurities and moved to lightly embrace Miranda one more time, whispering in her ear. "I love you Miranda; I may not always be the best at showing you, but I really love you and I miss you so desperately even though these last few days have been the most we've been together." She pulled back and looked at Miranda, a befuddled look on her face. "How is that possible?"

Miranda forced herself to take a step backward and then guided Andy back to the edge of the bed, wordlessly indicating that she should sit. Once Andy had scooted back a bit she moved to help lift her legs up and under the covers, settling her into a comfortable position once more. She then bent down, effectively blocking her daughters' view, and nuzzled the skin below a delicate ear before nibbling lightly on the beckoning lobe drawing a low, rumbling moan.

"With you darling, everything is possible. I love you."

l l l l l l l

Early the next morning Miranda was finishing her morning routine, one hand adjusting the cuff on a casual blouse, while the other brought a cup of steaming coffee to her lips when a knock on the door signaled the arrival of their expected visitor. They held each other's gazes for a moment until Andy nodded then watched in rapt fascination as Miranda transitioned into _the_ Miranda Priestly as she opened the door.

Leslie bustled in bearing with her The Mirror, The Post and The Daily News. Andy was learning that the woman rarely bothered with small talk and today was no different.

"My sources were accurate however they did not have access to the final edited content." She cringed as Miranda took the papers from her grasp and placed them on top of the blanket covering Andy's legs.

They opened to the front page of Page Six first.

"**Where is the Fashion Queen?"** _Fashion Week has started and there has been one glaring absence. Miranda Priestly, famed editor of Runway Magazine and chair of the Elias-Clarke Board of Directors has yet to make an appearance. Add to that, Marion Jenkins, associate editor at Marie-Claire and an interim member of the New York Fashion Week operating board who graciously afforded us an impromptu interview, indicated that the Dragon had not been available for detailed planning and conducted all of her meetings this last week via phone or video-conference. This of course has lead to major concerns by other board members and us to question whether or not the notorious queen's reign is in the early stages of decline._

Both Leslie and Andy watched as Miranda read the story aloud; even as her lips moved Andy could tell they were pursed as her features became more hardened with each syllable enunciated. By the end of the reading a full blown sneer dominated her face as she threw the article on the floor. "I will ruin her. Bloody fucking fame-sucking media whore will rue the day she tripped into my realm. By the time the sun sets that woman will be lucky to be able to hail a cab in this town. Leslie, would you please gather a file of all of this _**woman's**_ pertinent information? I…"

Leslie dared to interrupt as she pulled a folder from her bag and handed it over. "Already done. The number for Marie Claire's Joanna Coles is at the very top. Everything, from the company that holds the lease on her one bedroom apartment in mid-town to her dry-cleaners and favorite coffee house is in that file. Let me know if I may help in any way; I believe I would most enjoy assisting you with this one."

Miranda's face transformed from one of suppressed anger to devilish merriment so quickly that Andy had to shake her head. Marion Jenkins, whoever she was, just enjoyed the last day of her life as she knew it. The alleged decline of the Ice Queen's power would certainly prove to be nothing more than a child's fantasy by the time Miranda was through.

After everyone paused and took a breath The Daily News was opened next and Leslie was forced to admit that the depth of their material was more than what her sources had indicated. "I'm afraid that Mr. Hill was too late in having that conversation with Howard Blankenship." They took in the two photographs accompanying the article; the first clearly showed Miranda and the twins, laden with their gifts for Andy, in the Presby lobby. Miranda narrowed her eyes, displeased beyond measure that they dared print a photo of her girls.

The second photo was of Andy and it grabbed her attention so much so that she nearly did not hear as Leslie began to read the article. It was of Andrea in a long leather coat opened to reveal the black leather and silk outfit that she had gifted her for their evening at Madeline's, poised to enter the opened car door as Roy waited outside The Mirror.

"**The Angel and the Devil?"**_ Is it a coincidence? Our ever present eyes have proof (see photo at left) that none other than our illustrious dragon has been spending all of her time ensconced in a certain "Angel's" hospital room. _

_Sources have it that Miranda Priestly and Andrea "Andy" Sachs have been engaged in a very hush-hush Sapphic association; that's right, the 'Angel of the Broadway Line', newly moved from the Presby ICU, and our most notorious Prada wearing 'Devil' are said to be an item! Word has it that it's hot and heavy with lots of black leather and sparkling ice (see picture at right) and this with twenty-two years between them; mayhaps the queen is feeling her oats? Perhaps a mid-life crisis gone wild? Keep your eyes here, we'll have more for you soon!_

Miranda hummed as her eyes kept returning to the photo of Andrea in that outfit, while Andy merely stared into space with glazed eyes. Andy finally noticed what held such fascination for Miranda and blushed to the roots of her hair while Leslie looked back and forth at both women trying to gauge their reaction.

Finally Miranda looked up and skewered Leslie. "Get me a copy of that photo."

Andy finally found her voice. "That's it? That's all you have to say? God damn it, they're making me look like some sort of predatory sex fiend!"

Miranda noted the outraged expression and decided to inject some levity into the situation. She patted Andy's hand then slid a fingernail gently up her index finger, over the soft skin of her inner wrist and then up her forearm to the inside of her elbow as she couched her voice in just that timbre that caused a tremor to rush through Andy's body and Leslie to wish she were anywhere but where she was at that moment. "Yes, but darling, you are _**my **_predatory sex fiend."

Andy lost every thread of her outrage and squeezed her thighs at the sudden pulsing; she crossed her arms over her chest hoping that Leslie hadn't notice that her nipples were rock hard.

Miranda smirked as she noted Andrea's predicament as well as her understanding that this article, unlike the Page Six fabrication, was inevitable and unavoidable. No action could be overtly leveled at any one person although, given the details and that photo, she was certain that Greg would have a few choice words for Howard (and Miranda did have a few ideas that she remained silent about as she saw no need to worry Andrea unless necessary).

"Hmm, let's continue." Miranda picked up The Mirror and proceeded as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

The front page headline was by far the most prominently placed of the three articles and it invited, with its nearly sublime headline, the reader to step away from the circus and into a quiet room with just themselves and Andy. Miranda skimmed the piece and nodded; no changes had been made and she raised her head capturing Andrea's eyes with her intense gaze.

"You should be proud, this is a wonderful piece."

Leslie nodded. "I agree. Andy, you have a very unique and compelling style that will resonate with anyone who reads it."

Andy nodded absently as her eyes traced the photo which was nestled within the italicized type of the article; it had been shot by Andy's favorite nurse on Saturday with no intention of it ever being made public. The image was informal and candid in composition with Louise, Doug, Lily and Miranda, positioned in her usual spot holding Andy's hand, all surrounding Andy's bed, deep in conversation. It portrayed a sense of family, strength, unity and warmth.

Miranda moved closer to Andy's side and once again reached for her hand. "Before you know it, the worst will have passed; we will get through this."

Andy was still hung up on the Daily News article and photo. "I do know that Miranda; it's just more overwhelming than I could imagine. I mean, jesus f-ing christ! We just came out to the entire freaking world!"

Miranda leaned down and whispered in Andrea's ear even as Leslie moved to the far part of the room to give them privacy. "Yes my love and now everyone can see just how lucky I am to have you."

Andy turned her face and murmured against the soft lips. "Say it again."

"What darling?"

"Call me your love." Dark eyes sought the light within the now sparking blue. "_**Tell me** _Miranda, because that is the only thing that will keep me from completely losing it. Tell me."

Miranda saw the first real glimmer of her Andrea since she awakened, the one who took what she wanted and gave her everything, as they exchanged a look so laden with heat, want and love that she needed to sit as her legs were threatening to give out.

She pulled the chair as close to the bed as possible, never breaking their intense stare, keeping her voice a near whisper, despite knowing that Leslie had moved to the guest suite and shut the door, leaving them completely alone. "You, Andrea Sachs are the love of my life. You said you would burn for me, well my love, I burn for you, and you only. Hold that thought deep within and whenever it should get too hard remember it. Remember that you are the only one who makes me weep with desire; if I could I would have you right now because I _**need**_ you."

Miranda brought their lips together in a kiss that brought a moan from both, more for its promise than actual physicality, and pulled quickly away before it could cause pain.

"You are so incredibly hot and beautiful to me. So you are mine Andrea; _**mine**_ and don't you _**ever **_forget it."

**End Arc 2  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue:<strong>

**The "Angel of the Broadway Line"**_** – In her own words**_

_My name is Andrea Sachs but I prefer to go by Andy. I have been a reporter for the New York Mirror for the past year and before that an assistant to Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of Runway magazine._

_I am writing this from my hospital bed at New York Presbyterian Hospital where I am recovering from injuries sustained in the recent subway bombing. My memory of that day is virtually non-existent but I've been told that my actions allowed the train to be evacuated in time and in a location that created the least amount of damage; more importantly, no one was killed and apparently I was the only person seriously injured._

_I have also been informed that there are many people interested in the extent of my injuries and in my recovery. I took a pretty bad blow to the head, hence the not remembering part, have broken ribs, a ruptured ear drum, a minor perforation in my small intestine and numerous puncture wounds, muscle strains and bruises. It's going to take a while to get back to my normal day-to-day self and it really can't happen soon enough. I was not an individual designed for bed rest; the inactivity is starting to drive me crazy and I've only been fully awake for two days._

_It's been a week now since the bombing and throughout I have been supported by the love of my family, friends and a very special woman who has not left my side despite knowing that to do so would create speculation. Yes, your eyes have not deceived you, that __**is**__ Miranda Priestly, Editor of Runway magazine, pictured in the photo next to this article and we are involved in a romantic relationship. _

_After not seeing my former employer for a little over a year I ran into Miranda at a holiday party of a mutual friend nearly three months ago; we have been seeing each other ever since. _

_Please note, this is not normally something I would be discussing with people I don't know, let alone write about it in a daily newspaper but unfortunately circumstances are extraordinary and discretion is a luxury I have no longer been afforded. I am not one who seeks fame, but apparently life has had other plans and has thrust it upon me. I didn't do what I did on that train for accolade, no, I did it because I care and it was the right thing to do. The same can be said of my relationship with Miranda, I am involved with her not for the fame, fortune or even professional advancement rather I am with her because in addition to the driven career woman who accepts nothing but the best, she is a warm, loving and ethical human being who has captured my heart. _

_It should be noted, because many will no doubt ask, that when I worked at Runway we were not together, our relationship was strictly professional. Miranda was "The Miranda Priestly" and I was one of her assistants, running over the whole of Manhattan to ensure her life ran on time._

_So that's pretty much it; really, nothing that earth-shattering but I suppose a lot of people will have opinions to the contrary. I am a lot of things but not naïve to the way our "culture of celebrity" works so I suppose it's probably too much to ask that my privacy and my family's privacy be respected at this unexpected "news". I am however hopeful that we will each at least be treated with some modicum of restraint._

_One last thing, although it may be the most important of all; I need to express my gratitude. _

_First, to transit officer Bud Straszinski; it is because of Bud's selfless actions that I am alive today; without his intervention I was told that I would have bled to death in that tunnel. Myself, Miranda and my family are forever in his debt._

_I would also like to thank every one of the many people, both known and unknown to me, who have sent their wishes for a speedy recovery and who have kept me in their thoughts and prayers. Your love and support are greatly appreciated and knowing that you are behind me is giving me strength as I move forward in my recovery._

_Sincerely,  
>Andrea "Andy" Sachs<em>

**l l l l l l l**


End file.
